


Crowned Usurper

by planningconquest



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Captured, F/M, Found Family, Jedi Luke Skywalker, Leia raised by Vader, Lying Liars are Liars, Prince Luke, Princess Leia - Freeform, Sith-ish Leia, idk what else
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 13:02:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17663147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/planningconquest/pseuds/planningconquest
Summary: Princess Leia managed to capture the elusive rebel Jedi. She finds someone she never expected.





	1. Capture

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KaelinaLovesLomaris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaelinaLovesLomaris/gifts), [maedre13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maedre13/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The kidnappings of a Sith Lord](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10606992) by [maedre13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maedre13/pseuds/maedre13). 



“So, it is possible to bring a Jedi to their knees,” Princess Vader watched the Jedi test his bonds once more before finally meeting her eyes. Despite the guards, the weapons leveled at him, the lack of an escape path, the Jedi seemed perfectly calm. 

Bright blue blinked a few times, and the Jedi nodded regally. 

“I’m not on my knees,” he told her mildly. “I’m standing.”

“Figure of speech,” the princess hissed, “and that can change.” 

“Of course,” the blond shrugged, “the mighty Sith and the little Jedi. There is nothing here that can save me,” he gestured at the soldiers with his manacled hands. Seargent Krell growled audibly. “I tremble before your great power princess.” The mocking tilt to his head said otherwise. Leia felt her body ignite with anger as he fluttered long eyelashes at her. “What else can I do?” 

“Watch your mouth,” she snapped. 

“Have I been rude?” He asked, mocking disdain coating his words. “I’m so sorry, Princess. I don’t know how to speak.” 

“To your betters?” Leia drew herself up to her admittedly limited height, all but spitting with her anger. 

“I don’t have any betters,” the Jedi told her gently. “I was going to say raving lunatics.” Princess Leia stared, almost gaping in her astonishment at the Jedi’s lack of manners. His cool blue eyes seemed to skip over her face and then to her lightsaber. She set her hands on it, the threat obvious. 

“What is your name, Jedi?” 

“You seem to address me as Jedi just fine,” he replied, the calm tone only ratcheting up her anger by the second. His faux Core accent, obviously learned by imitation and not immersion, making it worse. 

“Of course you wouldn't see yourself as anything other than a Jedi. So like your kind to be obsessed with abandoning any idea of self. A slave to your master and a slave to the light.” His smile was bland. “You have a name, tell it to me.” 

“Why? If I don’t have an identity other than being a Jedi,” unless Leia was insane, there was a touch of bitterness in his tone. “Then what good is a name?” 

“To etch on your grave,” Leia snarled, almost aware of the startled expression on Captain Piett’s face. 

“I get an actual gravestone? You’re very generous, Princess. I thought it was an unmarked hole in the ground if my remains are even disposed of.” 

“They can still be fed to a rancor, and if you don’t want to give me your name, then I will beat it out of your little pilot friend I have in the cell blocks.” For the first time since she’d met the infuriating Jedi, his mask slipped. Worry, for his friend. Leia stared at him, all too gleeful at the panic in his eyes. “You do have an attachment to pick at, wonderful.” 

“No,” he denied, but his hands were fists, and he glanced at the guards as if calculating the chances of his escape. 

Leia all but rubbed her hands together with glee, staring at him and wondering just how he would like to fall. “What was his name? Rogue Six? Rogue Leader? Oh, it doesn’t matter in the end anyway. He must know a great deal.” 

“Touch him,” the Jedi straightened, all mocking pretense gone, “and I will gut you with your own saber, witch.” 

“A soft spot,” Leia cackled, “your own little pilot. Your little friends. Tell me, does your master approve? Does he know you have your own attachment to the little flyers?”

“Vader,” the Jedi growled, daring her to continue. She smiled. 

“Your name, Jedi, tell me and you have my word that no harm will come to him.” 

“Your word, Vader, is worth just as much as that rag your wearing,” he looked her up and down, “a few credits at most? From the bargain bin? Definitely too cheap.” 

“If you’ve made your choice?” She shrugged, itching to go to the cell blocks and dig her claws into the dark-haired pilot. He was promising and had enough rank in the rebellion to make him an excellent target. For the Jedi, she let her dark thoughts and intentions drift through the force. He stiffened, glaring. 

“Luke,” he spat out through gritted teeth. 

“Luke?” She leaned back a bit, staring a the bright blond hair and the blue eyes, “it fits. A small name for a small man.” His narrow shoulders tightened. “Where’s the rest of it?”

“The rest of what?” 

“The rest of your name, idiot. You aren’t just Luke; even Jedi have last names.” Now there was a secret there if his frightened and nervous expression was anything to go by. He had a secret to hide. “Oh, it wouldn’t be Kenobi, would it?”

“Kenobi?” If he meant to or not, his voice was full of disgust.

“It isn’t?” 

“Let me see, too pale to be Billaba.” Luke blinked a few times, surprised. “Too human to be any of the others who might have survived. Hmm,” Leia paused, leaning against nothing and continued to run through the list of Jedi she knew of. “You wouldn’t happen to be the great-grandson of Jocasta Nu?”

“Sure,” Luke said, “let’s go with that.”

“You aren’t being very cooperative.” 

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” 

“Talking to your little pilot friend is not out of the option,” Leia reminded him. Luke shrugged. 

“You have my name.” 

“I have your first name.” 

“You didn’t specify how much or what kind of name.” 

“The legal definition of a name.”

“Ah, but whose legal definition of a name?” 

“The Empires!” Leia seethed at the runabout. 

“Oh, I don’t know it.” 

“Know what?” 

“Any of it,” Luke shrugged, inspecting his fingernails.

“Which one? What the Empire considers a legal name or what your legal name is?” 

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” 

“Yes,” Luke shrugged.  
“What is your last name,” Leia seethed, “tell me.” She held out a hand, letting the force wrap around his throat and just enough pressure that he knew she wasn’t joking. “Your last name.”

“You’re assuming that I know what it is,” Luke said.

“Do you?”

“Sure.” 

“What is it?” 

“What is what?” 

“Your last name!” She tightened her invisible grip. The rebel Jedi gagged. “Tell me!” 

“Sky…skywalker.” Princess Vader stared and dropped him. He sagged against a trooper who yanked him upright. “Luke Skywalker.”

“Impossible!” Leia stepped back. “You are not Luke Skywalker. There are no Skywalker children. Troopers! Stun him!” He didn’t have time to block it or try to escape. He collapsed into an ungainly heap on the floor, and Princess Vader whirled on her captain. “Set a course for Bast Castle!” 

#$#$#$

Luke woke up to someone patting his cheek gently and repeatedly. He twitched away, not awake enough to muster up a real protest. Considering that he hadn’t expected to wake up at all, it was a surprise he was able to muster the energy to try and push them away. 

“Luke,” he sighed to himself, not really recognizing the voice. “Luke.”

“What?” 

“You need to wake up.” 

“Why?”

“To meet your big sister!” 

“My what?” Luke sat up so fast that he nearly knocked over Princess Vader. She hadn’t changed out of her heavy robes and stared at him while wearing an unnerving grin. 

“Your big sister!”

“I don’t have a sister,” Luke said quickly, and he pressed a hand to his stomach in panic. For a moment he surveyed the room and then the Sith Princess. “Am I dead?” 

“That would imply that I am dead as well,” Princess Vader pointed out, “and father would never allow that.” 

“I don’t think he’d ever allow you a Jedi for a brother or anything,” Luke tried to stand and found himself wavering uncertainly. “What did you do to me?” 

“Nothing, you’ve been asleep for a day now. The medic says your dehydrated, but otherwise fine.” Her bright eyes were solid brown, not the amber gold they had been. Luke found the differences startling. “How do you feel?” 

“Like I don’t have a sister.” 

“Except that you do,” she said, not breaking from her argument. “You have a sister, and that’s me! This is so exciting. I’ve never had a sibling before. Ever! You’ve never had a sister before ever, have you?” 

“I?” Luke wanted to be freaked out, but Leia just kept talking over him.

“What am I talking about. Of course, you don’t; you have no siblings either. And you grew up a Jedi, which is fairly disgusting given that I hate the Jedi.” 

“Um.” 

“But to have my little brother raised as a Jedi and then try to kill is a sort of perversion that I can't abide by.” Luke realized that this, the snotty overblown and too-cultured tone she was using had to be her version of nervous babbling. Considering that they’d try to kill each other not too long ago, Luke thought this might be an upgrade. 

“Except that, I am not your brother.”

“Except that you are. You are my brother, and that means that I have a little brother.” Luke raised an eyebrow at the circular bit of logic and shrugged as he sat up.

“Princess Vader, I don’t know what sort of a Sith smoke you’ve been inhaling in your Sithly whateverits you’re doing, but I’m not your sibling. I don’t have any siblings. Your father, Vader,” he told her sarcastically, “killed my father, Anakin Skywalker.” 

Princess Leia, the most terrifying woman to wield a lightsaber, the bane of the Rebellion, attempted murderess of Ezra Bridger and Co. several times over, as well as the Crown Princess to the Galactic Empire; began to laugh. Luke watched, a little concerned and more than a little frightened as she laughed too hard she collapsed sideways onto the bed she was leaning over. Luke stared down at the brown hair resting his against his chest, too startled to think that it was the perfect time to kill someone. 

When she recovered herself, Luke was truly disturbed and felt sick to his stomach when she stood and stretched out. “I needed that. When you’re ready, you should get dressed and come eat.” 

“I’m not your brother!” Luke exclaimed, watching as she left. When she was gone, he looked down at his hands and sighed. “I’m not,” he told himself. As soon as he felt her retreat, Luke jumped out of the bed and rushed to the door. It opened easily. Two guards stood on either side of it, their armor minimal and gray. The two men were identical and glanced at Luke with weirdly fond smiles. 

“Morning, Prince Luke. What can we help you with?” 

“Erm, nothing.” He leaned back into his room, slamming the door shut and set a hand on his chest, gasping. “This is not good. This is so, so, so, so, so, bad. I am so, so, so, so, so, so, doomed.” Luke raced to the window and looked out at rocky landscape beyond. He wasn’t a student of architecture, but he had the distinct feeling he was atop a high tower. The ground was a long way down. After some deliberation, he pulled away from the window and began exploring the room. If Luke was familiar with hotels, he might have drawn the comparison that it was a plainly decorated with comfort and style similar to a hotel. Since Luke had never slept a night in a hotel, he concluded that it was a ready-made guest room. 

It wasn’t like anything he’d seen outside of a holo-film. It was more luxury than he’d ever known, and the second he opened the closet door, he nearly fell over in a faint. There were clean, brand-new clothes hanging there. None of them in his usual Jedi robes style or the flight suit he’d always worn. They were new and with a distinct military cut. Black and gray, with a few deep blues, interspersed. Nothing like his white robes, which, Luke gave his armpit a sniff; needed to be drycleaned. 

He wasn’t sure that if he gave up his robes that the Sith Princess would let him have them back. Since it didn’t matter anyway, he grabbed a blue suit and carried it into the refresher. Months on the run had left its toll, and he indulged, very much against the code, in a hot shower. When he’d been cleaned, he ran a bath and soaked in it, hoping that stalling might knock the princess out of whatever funk she was in. Hopefully, she’d forget about the idea that Luke was her brother and just kill him. 

Luke grumbled unhappily as he pulled on his new clothes and grudgingly admired himself in the mirror. He did look like a rich kid, and almost like a prince. It was odd to see himself in something like this. The suit was a smooth fabric that felt like water under his hands. He looked good, and he felt good. Now, if it hadn’t come from the Sith Princess, he wouldn’t have minded so much. 

As soon as he was dressed, he ducked his head out the window, glancing around to see who might be hiding where. The troopers both nodded again. 

“Your Highness, Princess Leia sends word that she is available to speak if you wish it.” 

“Did she tell you where she was?” 

“No, sir. Said that you’d be able to find her.” 

“Right,” Luke inched out of the room and down the hall and looked back as the two soldiers followed him. “What are you doing?” 

“I’m sorry, your highness. We’ve been assigned to follow you and keep you safe.” 

“Safe? Are you sure that you haven’t been told to keep me here?” 

“That too, sir.” 

“Right,” Luke squared his shoulders and proceeded down the enormous hallway to the turbolift.

#$#$3

“You have brought a dangerous Jedi into our home!” Leia wasn’t in the habit of being angry with her Father, but today he had been especially hard-headed. 

“Father, I told you. Luke is not just a Jedi. He is Luke Skywalker, and he is my brother.” 

“You have no proof of this. I would know if I had a son. I sense only you, my child.” 

“Father!” Leia stared at the enormous hologram of her father, her patience waning. “Luke is my little brother. His carries the name Skywalker.” 

“It is a ruse,” Vader thundered, “destroy him at once.” 

“I am not going to kill my own brother. I have the DNA tests to prove that he is my brother, Father. I know he is even without the tests. Having him here, it feels as if I have part of my soul back where it should be. We are joined. I know it.” Her father paced out of pick-up range and then back. 

“I will come to Bast Castle and see for myself. This is too fantastical to believe over a holo-call.” 

 

“Luke is my brother,” Leia promised. She looked up sensing the bright spot in the castle moving around. “He’s up! I have to go!” She ended the call after a moment and gleefully went to locate her little brother. 

He was wandering around the conservatory. Father’s concession to Leia’s demand for green. The wide-eyed confusion hadn't faded, but he had changed into a suit that was more respectable than a torn and dirty flight suit. 

“That suits you better.” Luke jumped, whipping around with a frantic glare at her.

“What?” 

“Much less like an idiot rebel.” Leia moved closer, almost reveling in his presence. He was warm if too light for her tastes, and seemed unbent despite his upbringing. “More like a proper prince.” 

“I don’t even. I’m not your brother. You’d be better of executing me now, Princess Leia.” His insistence on dying was a little worrying. Did he want to die? Was he only expecting to die? Even if he hadn’t turned out to be her brother, Leia would have let him live long enough to understand the recklessness of his choices. Considering how frightened he was, she decided not to tell him that Father was coming. 

“You are my brother,” Leia told him. “Are you hungry?” 

“I’m fine,” he lied. 

“Well, I am hungry,” Leia told him, “and I don’t want to miss a meal. Come.” 

“Where?” 

“The dining room,” she gestured him closer. When he didn’t follow, the soldiers following him approached and forced him, by proximity, closer. “You seem uncomfortable.” 

“I can’t imagine why that would be.” 

“You’re also being sarcastic.” She pursed her lips. 

“Well noted, would you like a cookie?” 

“Given your size and weight,” Leia snarled, “you know what the word means only and have never eaten one. Don’t get snippy with me!”

“I’ll get as snippy with you as I like! Whatever bizarre mind games that you’re playing at don’t interest me!” 

Leia glowered before stalking down the hallway. Luke followed at a slower pace, annoyed at the flanking guards. “Your continued insistence to refuse to acknowledge your family can only be the result of Jedi brainwashing. I am your sister, and you will acknowledge that, at least.” 

“I won’t, and you can’t force me.” Luke blanched as she turned just enough for him to see her roll her eyes. “What was that for?” 

“You're not a hostage in a cell that would make holo-drama look tame, idiot. You’re not even a prisoner! You are a guest, and you act as if I haven’t offered you the proper greetings that courtesy dictates.” 

“I don’t much feel like a guest,” Luke argued, “if I am a guest, then why are there soldiers and guards following me around?” 

“Because you aren’t a trusted guest. Which you could have put together if you had the brain cells required to function beyond your ridiculous ideas of Jedi idiocy.” 

“Listen, you’re a Sith. I know that you can’t function without your puppetmaster pulling the strings. The fact you can walk surprises me. Can you even dance or do you have to wait for that to be programmed in?”

“EXCUSE YOU?” she turned around, furious as Luke held up his hands mockingly.

“Since you’re shouting in my face, you’re not excused.” 

“I am not a puppet, and neither is my father.” 

“Nice try, Princess, but the only thing you can do is repeat everything that you’ve been taught.” 

“THAT IS YOU! Ever since you woke up this morning, you’ve done nothing but insult me.” 

“You insulted me!” 

“YOU!” 

“Princess,” a short cough from an officer caught their attention. The argument derailed suddenly. The man was taller than both of them; his uniform was neatly pressed, his dark eyes were focused on the Sith, and the Jedi with an expression of fond exasperation that Luke thought might have been wildly out-of-place if it wasn’t succeeding in making the Sith visibly stall. “Perhaps Prince Luke ought to enjoy his meal…alone?” 

Luke felt interrupting would get him smacked. Or at least frowned out, and given the stern expression that turned on him; it was the last thing he wanted. Whatever power the man had over the Princess, was promptly extended over Luke. He felt himself straightening under the assessing gaze. 

“Prince Luke,” the man offered a dignified nod that would have made Obi-Wan seethe with jealousy. “It is good to see you up.” 

“Errr,” he looked away, wondering what he should say. “Thanks.”  
“Of course,” the man seemed amused at Luke’s inability to speak properly and turned to Leia. “Princess?” 

“Correct as always,” she admitted past gritted teeth. Without another word, she turned on her heel and stalked away. Luke gaped, which turned to embarrassment when the officer looked at him again. 

“Your meal is waiting if you would follow me?” 

“Erm,” Luke fell into step behind the man, noticing when he waved the soldiers away. “So? Who are you?” 

“A caretaker, at the moment I watch over Lord Vader’s favorite estate.” 

“Are you a nanny?” 

“No, though I can understand why you ’ve made a mistake.” The man led Luke through a dome doorway, and into a small room with a table and two chairs. The table was set with food, and looked like something that might have been in a small sidewalk café that Luke saw from a distance, but had never entered. 

“Then who are you?” Luke paused just inside the door. 

“You may call me Sudor. I understand that you don’t believe that Princess Leia is your sister?” 

“She can’t be my sister,” Luke answered instantly. “I don’t have a sister. My father was murdered by Darth Vader.” 

“Is that how you feel?” Sudor seemed unusually depressed at his proclamation. 

“It's what I know. My master would never have lied to me. I can’t be related to any of them. I am a Jedi.” 

“I see.” Sudor pulled out a chair, gesturing to it. “Sit, please.” 

“Why?” 

“Do you want to eat standing up?” 

“I guess not.” He sat down, still wary about the man who took the seat opposite. The plate in front of him was empty, but the dishes were full and covered. Curious, he lifted a lid off and blinked at the sight of a nerf-steak, perfectly grilled and seemingly perfectly seasoned. “What the?” 

“I’ve never met any young man your age who didn’t like steak.” 

“You don’t know that I like steak. I could be one of those vegan people.” 

“You could; there was a real possibility.” Sundor smiled faintly. “Except that you were raised a Jedi, and one on the run. Considering the past of the Jedi, and your upbringing, I doubted that they would indulge or allow you such a strict diet unless you had an allergy. You don’t have an allergy, which leaves the fact that you do eat meat, and it might be a correct assumption that you enjoy them rare.” 

“You’re not as clever as you think you are,” Luke grumbled, spearing the steak with his fork and dumping it on his plate. 

“Then I’m correct?” His smile was too wide and showed too many teeth. Sudor lounged in his seat and Luke began piling food. 

“You are right,” he muttered, “I couldn’t even get out of eating those damn mushrooms. Bugs tasted better.” 

“Bugs?” 

“I actually liked them,” Luke considered his plate of food, familiar guilt surging back into his system and he set down his fork. 

“You used to eat bugs?” 

“It was better than mushrooms,” Luke fidgeted with his sleeves, staring out the window. Looking at the Imperial would be too difficult for the moment. “And since no one else wanted to eat them with me, I got them all to myself.” 

“Did you want to eat these bugs?” 

“I didn’t want to eat the mushrooms.” He turned a short glance to the officer. His smile had faded, and his expression was blank. “What?” 

“Please eat, young Prince.”

“I’m not a prince,” Luke replied, stabbing the steak in an effort to regain his sense of normalcy, and to prove that he wasn’t starving. 

“If you were presented with hard, medical evidence would you be more amenable to believing me?” 

“Like what?” 

“A DNA tests? A blood test? Perhaps video evidence?” 

“I don’t,” Luke struggled for an answer, “those can be faked.” 

“Why would we fake a blood test? Do you think that Lord Vader truly wishes to have a son who is a Jedi and who has nearly killed his daughter several times over?” 

“A ruse, to make me fall to the Dark Side. To have control over me.”

“That is a great deal of effort to go through to convince one underfed Jedi to fall to the Dark Side.” 

“I’m not underfed,” Luke replied and shoved a forkful of food into his mouth. “I’m fine, but the Sith work in mysterious and evil ways.” He refused to acknowledge how ridiculous he sounded. It sounded like something out of a bad holo-drama. 

“What does the force tell you then?” 

“The force?” 

“Certainly you seek guidance from the Force? It will not lie to you unless you fear the truth of your family.” 

“I’m not talking about the Force with you,” Luke gestured with his fork.

Sudor nodded, “very well.”

“Why are you talking to me instead of the Princess?” 

“Do you mean to as why the Princess isn’t speaking to you about this?” 

“Uh, yeah.” 

“I’ve seen how you both seem to communicate, and I’d rather not have Lord Vader return to an all-out war in his own home.” 

“Hmm,” Luke took a sip of water, glowering at his overly appetizing plate of food. “I don’t have a sister and Lord Vader isn’t my father.” 

“Even if you saw the test results?”

He didn’t answer, which was all that Sudor needed to know. 

“It would have to be an untampered test, fresh blood, and administered by a third party.” 

“A droid?” 

“Sure, but no outside interference.” 

“You aren’t worried about us having your blood on file?” 

“You already have my blood on file. The Princess was clear on that.” Luke stabbed the food and began to eat. He refused and had learned how to after long practice, to show how much the food affected him. It was delicious. 

Luke was only just barely grateful that the man avoided mocking him for his obvious enjoyment of the food. 

“Who are you?” 

“I introduced myself; I am Sudor.” 

“That’s your name,” Luke answered, “that doesn’t tell me who you are.” 

“No, it doesn’t.” 

“Are you Princess Leia’s babysitter?” Sudor smiled, showing just enough teeth that Luke knew he’d amused the man. He lounged in his chair as easily as a king on his throne. Assured with himself and the universe around him.

“I am not.” 

“Are you my babysitter?” 

“For the moment.”

“Until I’m turned?” Luke speared his steak with too much force, and the contents of the plate were shoved off and onto the table. The suddenness of the action gave Luke pause, and the officer raised his eyebrows. They disappeared into a neatly trimmed hairline as Luke sighed and began to shovel the food back onto his plate. “Waste not want not,” he saluted with is a fork and continued eating. 

“Of course.” There wasn’t the expected disgust or judgment in his gaze, only silent contemplation. 

“Do you know if the rest of my crew is alright?” Luke asked when he thought the silence was getting creepy and unnerving enough to make him squirm. “There were other pilots that were captured with me.” 

“They are alright. They are still aboard the Star Destroyer, unharmed.” 

Luke set his fork down, his stomach churning as he considered how little he had thought of his fellow pilots. Not only that, but he had ignored what the situation really was. Princess Leia’s bizarre declaration had knocked him off track and into a somewhat juvenile mindset. 

“What do they intend to do with my pilots?” 

“Your pilots?” 

“Yes.” He’d gone through every manner of hell with his pilots, and he wasn’t about to let the Empire sink their claws into them. 

“Oddly possessive of you.” 

“They are my pilots,” Luke snapped, “I lead them. I fly with them. I train with them. They are my pilots. I want to know what the Empire intends to do with them.” 

“I don’t know,” Sudor replied. “I am not a military officer, and I don’t command officers. For that answer, you would need to ask the Princess.” He lunged across the table and snagged Luke’s wrist as the Jedi stood abruptly. “After you eat.” 

“Leia is unhinged and a lunatic,” Luke snapped, “I don’t trust her with my men’s safety.” 

“Princess Leia,” Sudor tugged him reluctantly back down. “You may speak with the princess after you eat. She will not execute your pilots without speaking to Lord Vader first. They will be fine.” 

“You have no way to guarantee that,” Luke tugged his hand free. 

“I will guarantee, give me a few moments.” Sudor stood and left the room. Luke glanced at his food, and back at the door as he waited. The seconds trickled by until seven minutes had passed. He perked up as Sudor returned, trailed by Princess Leia. 

“Your pilots are alright,” Leia told him, crossing her arms. “And stop causing a fuss.” 

“I’m not causing a fuss. I have genuine concerns!” 

“Feel the Force? Am I lying to you? You obviously don’t trust me.” 

“Should I?” 

“Definitely not,” she nodded to Sudor. “Is he causing you trouble?” 

“No, princess.” 

“I am right here, you know. I can hear you.” 

“Please make sure he behaves.” She turned on her head, tossing an evil smirk Luke’s direction. Then she was gone, and Luke simmered in his annoyance. 

#$#$#$

Dropping into real space close to his home, was a confusing mix of light and dark in equal strength. Obviously, the light was the infestation of the Jedi that Leia had captured, but they circled each other. Like animals that were ready to fight. Both of them fighting for dominance.

Curiously enough, the light was not like that of a regular Jedi master. It wasn’t a burning, agonizing glare, rather the light that the Jedi held onto was a soft one. Strong, powerful; but gentle. Vader drew back from it, furious. 

“What is the meaning of this?” He demanded of Sudor the moment he was within the castle walls. His aide grimaced. 

“Princess Leia found and brought back a man who shares her DNA. He is biologically her brother, and I have the evidence compiled right here.” Vader growled as the datapad was thrust into his hands. He glanced down and read the first few lines.

“Where is he?”

“They are both in the parlor room,” Sudor said, sounding faintly exhausted. His daughter was a handful any regular day of the week. Dealing with both Leia and a Jedi son would be tiring to anyone. “Arguing.”

“What is the problem?” 

“Lord Vader, Prince Luke has been raised as Jedi, and Princess was raised as a Sith. That alone means they don’t along. Except that they have such different personalities. Luke believes that you murdered his father and refused to hear otherwise. Princess Leia is annoyed with him refusing to listen. Luke is worried about his pilots. They both are furious about an incident a few days ago. There was a rather vicious food fight.” 

“I see.” Vader stalked through the door and glowered at his daughter who was shouting emphatically at a short blond man wearing a basic officer uniform. He was shouting back just as furiously. It was not how he expected to meet his son. He hadn’t expected to meet a son ever. Hearing Luke shout quotes from the ancient master Sibbun at his sister was violently surreal. The entire situation made even more bizarre by the fact that they were both standing on top of the couches. An untouched tea-set sat on the table between them, rattling every few seconds from the vibrations. Leia stomped from one end of the couch to the other. Luke remained where he was.

Vader crossed his arms and waited until he was noticed. It took longer than he thought it should, considering both his children were powerful force sensitives. When Luke finally noticed him, he yelped in surprise and toppled backward off the couch. 

“What is the meaning of this?” He demanded, Leia huffed in anger and sat down, crossing her legs beneath her i. Luke’s bright blond hair made an appearance as he poked his head over the couch. “Young Skywalker.” 

“Vader,” his son straightened, and Vader drank in the sight. Luke was short, lean, with bright blue eyes. 

“I return to my home to find a vagabond Jedi running amok.” 

“Then let me leave if you don’t want me to be running around.” 

“That is not an option.” The blood test might have confirmed Luke as his son on a biological level, but he did not need it. His force presence was too similar, it flared with his anger and wrapped around him like a cloak. “You are the son of Anakin Skywalker.” 

“My father is dead,” Luke snapped. 

“He’s not dead, idiot!” Leia told the blond. “He’s right in front of you.” 

“You are not my father!” Luke exclaimed and sensed the Force’s denial alongside Leia and Vader. “My father is dead.” 

“I stand here,” Vader intoned, “I am your father.” 

Believing Leia might have proven difficult, the blood tests were harder to deny, but hearing it directly from Vader was impossible to deny. Luke held very still, trembling despite the effort to avoid it. He glanced from Leia to Vader and took a shuddering breath. Something shined wetly in his eyes as he stared between them and eventually shook his head. 

“You should have stayed dead,” Luke rasped, “you should have stayed a corpse! You,” he took a shaking step back and darted around the couch to flee the room. Vader let him run, turning his gaze to Leia whose eyes had faded from amber to brown. Her confusion couldn’t be more apparent. 

“Luke,” she took a step after him and turned to her father. “What just happened?” 

“How has he been reacting?” 

“Angry everytime that I mention that he’s my brother.” Leia glowered at the door he’d vanished through. “Angry everytime and he doesn’t even know what to do with his anger. He has the makings of a powerful Sith Lord, and he still insists on being a Jedi! I don’t know why he wants you dead. I wish I did.” 

Vader turned his head to track Luke’s progress through the residence and turned to Sudor. “Find him.” The man nodded and vanished. “Daughter.” 

“Yes?” She was in trouble, and she knew it. Vader had already received the dozens of reports of their arguing and fighting over the last two weeks. She tried to slink out of the room, giving him a vacant smile until he held up his hand. 

“What is the meaning of this.” 

“He’s my brother,” she told him sulkily, “I’m not apologizing for having brought him home.” 

$#$#$#4

Luke thought that his heart couldn’t hurt any more than it did now. He wasn’t sure his beath could come any quicker, or if his stomach could churn his breakfast around any worse than it already was. It was a testament to how much worse this panic attack was that he only blinked when Sudor pulled the curtain separating the window seat from the rest of the room. 

He used to do this when he was younger. Find a small space to hide in until he could breathe again. Obi-Wan would spend hours trying to coax him down from one of the high storage bins. 

“Luke,” Sudor’s voice was soft, and his dark eyes were full of concern. “Are you alright.” 

“Fine,” he rasped past the tightness in his chest. “Just fine.”

“You don’t sound fine,” Sudor entered the alcove, sitting at the end of the window seat. “Do you need?” 

“I AM FINE!” Luke shouted, glowering at the man who held up his hands and nodded. 

“Alright, you’re fine. My apologies.” Luke closed his eyes and leaned his head against the window. Below the rocky landscape seemed to echo with his own heartache. “Do you have a knife?” 

“A knife?” The curious tone was sharpened with concern. Luke scoffed.

“I’m not going to hurt myself. I promise.” 

“You say that,” the man produced a small pocketknife. A useful type of knife that most rebels carried. Luke checked the edge for a moment before reaching up to his padawan braid and cutting it with a quick stroke. “Luke!” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Luke told him, dropping the knife and braid on the cushion between them. He wrapped his arms around his knees and stared dolefully out the window. “I can’t be a Jedi anyway.” 

“I don’t understand,” Sudor said, “your father does not define you, and nor does your sister. You can be a Jedi.” 

“I can’t,” Luke didn’t lift his head, “I can’t be a Jedi like this. Not if I can’t be…not if I can’t be a Jedi.” 

“I don’t understand. Why can’t you be a Jedi?”

“I’m not,” Luke knew that there was something dark and bitter inside him that frightened his teacher. Something horrible that made him scared too, that evil seed inside him that had to have come from somewhere. He understood now. “I want him dead.” 

“Well, he is a Sith Lord.” 

“No! I want Anakin Skywalker dead and gone! I hate my father! I hated him before I even knew who my father was. I hated him ever since I was a child! I can’t be a Jedi like this! I can’t be a Jedi who hates people!”

Sudor watched, and all through the speech, Luke felt very small and young. He shrugged, glancing away from the older man. 

“I can’t be a Jedi now.” 

“I think that you're too harsh on yourself.” Sudor picked up the braid and held it out to Luke. “Plenty of people dislike their parents.” 

“I don’t just dislike him! I hate him! I wish he were dead and I was always glad he was dead.” It was a horrible truth, it hurt more than he thought it might say it, and the burning in his chest lessened. The ugly admittance poured out of him. “I was glad he was dead! I was happy my mother was dead! I hated them. I’m not supposed to be happy that people are dead! I’m not supposed to happy that they’re gone. I’m not supposed to hate my parents! I do hate them! I hate them so much, and I want him dead.” Luke clenched his jaw, tears burning the back of his eyes. “It’s not fair! I couldn’t be Anakin, and I can’t be Vader!” Despite every attempt to mitigate them, the tears oozed from his eyes, dripping down his face to land on his knees. He cried for a few minutes, too ashamed to look at Sudor. “What kind of son hates their parents?” 

“Luke.” 

“And I couldn’t even!” Luke unwound himself enough to slam a fist against the window. It shuddered but didn’t break, and Sudor sighed. “I couldn’t even avoid capture from my own sister! I could have escaped and left Biggs behind! I could have run away and left, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t abandon my friend. What kind of Jedi am I?” 

“One with compassion it seems.” 

“I’m not compassionate,” Luke rubbed the tears away from his face. “I can’t even care about my own parents. I wanted my father dead. I was happy he was dead. I couldn’t be compassionate after that.” 

“Why did you hate your father?” 

“Because I couldn’t be him. I was never as strong as him. I would never as fast, never as clever. I wasn’t as good of a flier. I wasn’t my father, and I spent years and years being compared to him and coming up short, and I started to hate him! It wasn’t fair to him. He was dead. He couldn’t make Rex, Saw, Cody, or anyone else stop. It wasn’t.” Luke covered his mouth with a hand, blinking away tears. “I just wasn’t good enough to be the son of Anakin Skywalker and the only thing I did better than he did, was live.” 

“I see.” Sudor fell quiet, and Luke continued to sulk. “Luke, you aren’t defined by your father or your sister. You are Luke Skywalker. You are a Jedi, even if you don’t always feel like it. I have followed your career, Luke. I’ve read the reports, I’ve seen the recordings they have of you. I’ve had to since Princess Leia had them sent here.” 

“That’s creepy.” 

“Luke, from what I have seen you are the most compassionate and gentle one in the entire rebellion. You care about your pilots; you care about the men you serve with. You care about the refugees you’ve helped evacuate.” 

“My pilots are the problem. I’m not supposed to care as much as I do. I’m too attached to people.”

“That is exactly what makes you the greatest Jedi who has ever lived, Luke,” Sudor hold him earnestly, taking hold of Luke’s hand and squeezing. “You’re a good Jedi, the best one because you care about the people you’re helping. It’s not just an empty action; it means something to you and to the people you help. They know you care. It means more than you think.” 

“I’m still the son of a Sith Lord,” Luke scoffed, but he felt a little better. “It’s not a good thing.” 

“You can’t choose your family.” 

“I could denounce them, and let them deal with me like they would with anyone else.” Luke shook his head. He had a feeling that Leia would ignore it, and that Vader would take personal insult to the entire mess. “What can I do, Sudor. I’m stuck. I just want my pilots so we can blast out of here and not come back.” 

“I don’t know if I can arrange that, but I think I can arrange something else.” 

“Like what?” 

“Let me speak to your father,” Sudor told him, patting his arms, “and I’ll get back to you. Will you be alright if I leave you alone?”

“Yes,” Luke summoned the strand of hair to his hand and tucked it back into his pocket. “Thank you, Sudor.” 

“You’re welcome, if you need anything else, please come get me.” 

$#$#$

Leia hadn’t gotten in serious trouble with her father since she’d once tried to rebuild his TIE fighter from the ground up in an afternoon before getting bored and leaving it in scattering pieces in the hanger. At the moment, traumatizing her brother was probably more important than a TIE fighter. 

“Explain what you have done with him since he has arrived.” Vader had his hands set on his hips and was staring down at her with the very disappointed, weighted glare she hated. When she was younger, it had previewed a long and heft lecture followed by whichever punishment her father thought she deserved. Spending two weeks scrubbing out the vents was the worst one so far. Especially considering he had deactivated the cleaning droids that were supposed to be doing it originally. 

“I hadn’t done anything to him,” Leia pointed at the tea set between them, “we were enjoying a tea party when you barged in.”

“Enjoying tea and getting into a screaming match do not equal,” her father said shortly, “what happened?” 

“He does not accept that he is my brother. He refused to accept it since he woke up. He has been throwing temper tantrums since he got here. I have done nothing.” 

“To make him more comfortable,” he jabbed a finger at her. “A Jedi is always nervous around the Dark Side and fears its users. Luke is no exception.” 

“He is Dark on his own,” Leia sulked as she examined her nails, “he is possessive of his little pilots. He has pride in his piloting skill. I don’t think he is a very good Jedi.” 

“I disagree,” her father clasped his hands behind his back and paced away, “the reports of young Skywalker have always been infuriatingly positive. Even the officers he has held as hostage have admired him. You have both dueled often enough to give an accurate account of his power.” 

“Perhaps,” Leia crossed her arms. 

“He is strong, powerful. No doubt the Rebellion seeks to manipulate him to use him for their purposes. Having such a powerful Jedi on a leash would only give them an advantage.”

“It gave them a disadvantage,” Leia snapped, feeling a little jealous of how he was speaking of her brother. “He has no training in duplicity or negotiations. I managed to capture him because he is a weak-willed.”

“Capture, but you have not broken him.” 

“I haven’t tried,” Leia felt the envy and jealousy rise like an acid up her throat until she wanted to vomit. “Luke isn’t special. He is just another rebel and a silly Jedi.”

“He is your brother.” Leia forced down her angry retort, almost regretting bringing the blond home. They turned as the door opened to let Sudor through. 

“My lord, princess, if I might?” 

“What is it?” 

“There are two pilots held prisoner by the princess, a pilot named Wedge Antilles and one named Biggs Darklighter. Sir, these are friends of Prince Luke. I believe that allowing a meeting between the three would be a great morale booster for Luke.” 

“We shouldn’t coddle him!” Leia exclaimed, “besides, he’s a Jedi. He’s not supposed to have attachments!” 

“Encouraging his attachments would break him further from the Jedi creed,” Vader considered. “Do it, Sudor, but watch them.” 

“Yes, my lord,” he bowed and left the room. Leia turned to her father, seething. 

“He doesn’t need them. I am his sister!” 

“It is not for you to deny, daughter. Your brother festers in the light. The only way to break him of his Jedi alliance is to keep him close to his men. As it was for me, his love will lead him to the Darkness.” 

“His love won’t twist him, Father,” Leia scowled, “he is a Jedi and a Jedi he will die.” 

“What has happened to you, Leia. You were pleased to discover your brother. You wanted him here. Why are you protesting this?”

“I have no quarrel with my brother,” Leia snapped, “as long as he doesn’t replace me.” 

“Replace you?” It drew her father up short. Vader started visibly and set his hand on his hips. “You cannot be replaced, my daughter. Anything I do for Luke, I would do for you. You are both my children, your lives I value more than the galaxy. There is nothing I would not do.” 

“You would give me my own pilots?” 

“You have no pilots,” Vader pointed out, confused.

“If I did?” 

“You are not a rebel,” her father made an aborted motion with his hand. “If there is something you desire, ask.” 

“I want,” Leia stopped, glowering at her father. “I want my own droids and a new starfighter.”

“As you wish,” he handed her a credit chip. “Find what you want.” 

Leia glanced down at the credit chip and back at her father. “Seriously?”

“Why not? You are correct. The value of Luke’s pilots is second to none. It is not fair to give him such a gift while leaving you out of it. As for his fall and attachment, make friends with him. Gain his loyalty and trust, and he will never be our enemy again.” 

“Loyalty from a Jedi?” 

“His dedication to his pilots is clear; there is no reason he would not soon trust you.” 

“It will be a cold day on Mustafar,” Leia disagreed, but somewhat mollified by the promise of gifts. “But I will do my best.”


	2. Clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke and Wedge meet up again, but Vader and Leia aren't ready to give up on Luke.

A Few Days Later 

Luke was meditating as best he could when the door slammed opened, and Wedge burst through. He was across the room before the Jedi could stand properly, and sweeping him into a tight hug and swinging him around. 

“You’re okay!” He crowed. “You’re okay!” 

“I’m fine,” Luke sputtered, trying to pry the arms away from him. “Wedge, please.” 

“I’m so happy to see you okay!” The older pilot reached over to ruffle his hair. “They wouldn’t tell me anything! That lightsaber duel was insane! I can’t believe you nearly got your head chopped off.” 

“Thanks, Wedge,” Luke sighed, leaning his head onto his shoulder and taking a deep breath. “Thanks, but I got captured.” 

“I think a ten-year career in the Rebellion and only getting captured once is pretty good,” he ruffled his hair again. They stayed in perfect silence, Wedge holding him longer than he ever had. “Commander, what’s happening?” 

“I,” Luke pulled away and crossed his arms. “Darth Vader is here, so is Princess Vader, and…” he fiddled with the sleeve of his black shirt. Wedge paused as he finally noticed the clothes. Black layered on top of black. Not the usual clothes wore. In fact, his padawan braid was gone. “Apparently so is Prince Vader.” 

“Prince Vader? There isn’t a?” The guilty expression, the slump in his shoulders, the dark clothes, the overwhelming force abilities combined with top-notch piloting skills. “Holy shit,” he breathed. “Holy Shit! What the Sith?” He shook his head. “You’re…literal Sithspawn?” 

“Yes,” Luke shrugged, refusing to look at him. “Vader spared your life because of our attachment.” 

“We don’t have an attachment,” Wedge repeated his usual line whenever someone asked. His affection with Luke was his secret. 

“We do, Wedge. You can’t lie about it either. They’ll both be able to tell.”

“Luke.” Wedge reached for his friend, but Luke jerked away. 

“The Sith are the opposite of the Jedi. Master Kenobi told me to avoid attachments. My,” he seemed to have trouble with the word but forced it out. “My father wants to encourage them. He told me that they other pilots go.”

“I’m a hostage?”

“Yes. Wedge, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t intend for any of this to happen!” 

“Hey, it’s okay. We’re Red Squadron. We stick together.” Wedge sighed a quiet sigh when Luke let him set his hands on his shoulders. “There’s no way could have known Vader was.” It hadn’t quite sunk in yet that Darth Vader was the father of his best friend. “Did they do a test?” 

“A paternity test,” Luke nodded, “untampered, by a brand new medical droid. I…I oversaw everything. He really is my father.” 

“That,” Wedge took a deep breath, “doesn’t matter. We’re friends, we’re Red Squadron. I’m not going anywhere.” He hugged his young friend close, noticing Luke’s delicate shivering. “Even if you’re actual Sithspawn.” 

Luke gave a half-hearted chuckle. “That’s not as funny as you think it is.” 

“It is hilarious. It opens up new avenues for jokes.” 

Luke finally pulled away, “have you met my sister?” 

“Princess Vader, five-foot-nothing, dark brown hair, orange-ish eyes, a lightsaber?” 

“Yyeesssss?”

“Yeah, I met her. Crazy scary.” 

“She,” Luke shrugged, “she is a little frightening. I suppose.” 

“You suppose?” Wedge laughed, but he sounded tired and worn out. 

“Are you alright?” Luke straightened his shirt, noting the bruises and the hollow eyes. “Wedge, did they hurt you?” 

“Not much more than the usual roughing up. I’m okay.” 

“You should eat,” he fussed, “and get clean, you should take a nap.” 

“I’m fine, honest.”

“Wedge,” Luke stared up at him, pleading and worried. Then Wedge finally saw just how tense and afraid Luke really was. His eyes were lined, and his mouth was pinched in a tight frown. “Please?”

“Sure thing, Commander Luke.” 

“Thank you,” Luke directed him toward the enormous refresher and vanished. When he stepped out, clean for the first time in two weeks, and feeling a little more human, there was a tray of food sitting on the big desk. The blond was nowhere to be seen, but Princess Vader was sitting nearby and watching him carefully. 

“Erm.” There weren’t a lot of sensations like being menaced by a Sith Princess while wearing only a long towel around his waist. Princess Leia looked him over once or twice, eyes appreciative but not overly leery. He puffed out his chest, such as it was and hoped he couldn’t be murdered while he was wearing practically nothing. 

“Hello, Pilot.” 

“Hi,” he paused, “Princess. Um.” 

“My brother seems pleased to see you,” Leia tossed a grape into the air. 

“Thank you?” He tightened his grip on his towel. 

Before she could speak more, the door slammed opened and Luke barged in. 

“GET OUT!” Wedge jumped, having never heard him shout like that. 

“I wanted to see how your pilot was doing,” she blinked coyly at Luke. 

“Wedge is fine, and you were here to menace him. Not check on him. Get out of my room, Leia.” 

“Don’t shout at your older sister,” she scoffed, tossing the grape into the air and catching it with her mouth. “Respect.” 

“Get out, leave my friend alone.”

“Friend?” 

“Yes, and if you ever make one of your own, then you can get just as defensive.” 

“I have friends,” Leia argued, “and I can come into your room if I want.”

“No, you can’t!” Luke stormed up to the desk, “and stop eating his food.” 

“Can’t learn to share? Isn’t that what the Jedi are about?” 

“I’m not giving you my pilot!” 

“I’m not,” Wedge shrugged as the argument escalated, yelping when the door opened to admit Darth Vader himself. 

“What is going on here?” The Sith demanded. His masked gaze turned to Wedge, who shrugged expansively and hoped that he wasn’t about to die. He tightened his grip on his towel, grinning awkwardly as the conversation halted and all of them turned to hm 

“Do you mind?” He ventured, inching back toward the refresher, “giving me some privacy.” 

“Leia! Get out of my room! You can’t just barge in here without permission!” Luke stood in front of him, hands on his hips, glowering at the two Sith. 

“You are my baby brother. I can do whatever I please.” 

“A knuckle sandwich will please you!” Luke exclaimed, and Wedge grimaced as Vader intervened. 

“Leia, out. Luke, do not shout at your sister.” His deep voice rumbled through the 

“I am not shouting!” He cried, and Wedge rolled his eyes on reflex

“Out,” Vader ordered and Leia scoffed before ambling out of the room. He turned toward Luke and Wedge. “I expect you for dinner, on time.” Wedge swallowed hard, “do not bring the pilot.”

“Then I won’t be bringing myself,” Luke hissed and Wedge was honestly surprised. Luke was a warrior and a fighter, but standing up for himself had never ever been his strong suit. His master had pushed him around, the Council had driven him harder than anyone else in the rebellion. Training, fighting, leading and piloting. He was the Jedi, and at the beck and call of anyone with a significant amount of rank. 

To see him here, like this, standing up to Darth Vader and Princess Vader, was amazing. A man who could kill him in a minute and a girl who had fought him dozens of times across dozens of battlefields. Did family have something to do with it? His father and his sister he could stand up to. Shouting as the future empress to get out of his room like they were six or seven. 

“You will be joining us, do not bring the rebel.” 

“Then I won’t be coming,” Luke didn’t look back at Wedge, but he could probably feel his shock. 

“You will come Luke do not bring him.” 

“His name is Wedge, Father,” Luke straightened, jutting out his chin, “you can use it. Or his rank will suffice.” 

“Do not bring Antilles.” 

“Why not?” 

“It’s fine, Luke,” Wedge hissed, “I don’t really want to go.” Luke scowled at him, and then at his father. 

“Fine, I’ll go, but you shouldn’t just march in here without knocking.” 

“As you wish.”

That was odd. Everyone walked in Luke’s room no matter what time it was. Kenobi, the Specters, the other pilots, Council members. All of them were in and out of his rooms and quarters and his workspace. It was odd, even though Wedge was used to it, but to see Darth Vader agreeing to knock was a bit mindboggling. When he was gone, Luke finally turned around. 

“Are you alright? I’m sorry they came barging in here.” 

“I’m used to people walking in on me,” Wedge answered honestly, “just not a kriffing Sith Lord catching me in the towel. Luke…people always come in and out of your rooms and stuff.”

“Yes, but they were rebellion members.” Luke stared at him, “you should probably get dressed.” 

“Probably.” Wedge retreated to the refresher to get dressed. When he emerged Luke was pacing around the room nervously. 

“You should eat something,” Luke told him.

“What’s wrong, boss?” 

“Father wasn’t me to join him for dinner. So far I’ve been able to convince Sudor to bring me my meals in my room.” 

“You can’t hide away forever, Luke.” 

“That’s what they think apparently,” the Jedi sighed deeply, “I’m sorry, Wedge.”

“Hey, you don’t have to apologize for every little thing,” Wedge told him. “It isn’t your fault.” 

“But it is! I’m…I’m a traitor, Wedge. A complete and total traitor.” 

“Just because your father is Vader? That doesn’t make you a traitor. I told you, you’re my friend. I’m not going to abandon you. I promise.” 

Narrow shoulders slumped as a knock came at the door, “yes?”

“Young Lord,” a tall, handsome man in a well-fitted uniform entered. His dark eyes flickered over to Wedge. “Dinner is read.”

“Thank you, Sudor. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

“Yes, sir.” He was gone a moment later, and Luke looked helplessly at him. 

“It’s okay, Commander, I can handle it. Eating alone, I mean. Look at it this way. As soon as you’re done eating, you can come back up here and we can do whatever.” 

“Right. I’ll be back.” 

“I’m not worried about that,” Wedge ruffled his hair, “see you.” 

“Right.” Luke straightened his shirt, glancing only once behind himself to see Wedge wave cheerily at him. Down the hall and turbolift, and through the enormous castle, until he reached a huge dining room. The table was set for two, Vader seated at the head and Leia to his right. The place opposite her was empty. 

“Glad you could join us,” Leia piped up. 

“I would have rather stayed with Wedge,” Luke reluctantly took his seat. Leia seemed both delighted and annoyed by his presence. Despite his efforts to avoid her, she's made it her duty to bug him. Vader, his father, loomed at the head of the table without anything set in front of him. He couldn’t eat or wouldn’t eat. It made him nervous. Master Kenobi had told him that Vader was more machine than man. The whirling services and the faint hiss of hydraulics told him that was partly true. Whoever lurked under the armor had to be upset with Luke. It was one of the reasons he hadn’t wanted to come down and speak to either of them. The last time he had spoken to Vader he had shouted, wishing he stayed dead or had never lived in the first place. Honestly, Luke hadn’t remembered exactly what he’d told him. 

“Lurking in your room will do you no favors,” Vader’s voice boomed as it always did, but there was a faint hint of reprimand. “You must learn to socialize.” 

“I know how to socialize,” Luke nodded his thanks to the droid that rolled up and set down a plate. He served Leia, who thanked him. 

“With your family, young one.” 

At a loss for what to say, Luke chose to eat. 

Luke didn’t know what a family looked like from the inside. He had been raised by Jedi and Force Acolytes. Some families had come in and out of the rebellion, and he knew that Kanan Jarrus saw himself as Ezra’s father, but his experience was limited. 

“What did you do today?” Vader asked, and since the question was open-ended, Luke didn’t answer. 

“The stabilizing core of my ship won’t fix,” Leia said, clearly at ease. “I’m not sure where to even begin.” 

“Did I shoot you?” Luke blurted, ducking his head down when Vader turned slowly toward him. 

“Yes,” the resentful answer was amusing, “you did.”

“Which mission?” Luke poked his fork into the plate, glancing up only long enough to see Leia glowering at him. 

“The mission above Ankor.”

“Didn’t you have to bail?”

“Yes,” she snarled, and Luke yelped when she kicked him beneath the table.

“Hey!” 

“I had to bail out in the middle of an ocean!” 

“You were trying to kill an entire ship of refugees!

“They weren’t refugees!” 

“Yes, they were! They were escaping the governor who was trying to murder them because they didn’t want to give up their land for industrial farming.” 

“They were rebels!” Leia exclaimed, and Luke resisted the urge to kick her. 

“They weren’t any more rebellious than you, Princess. They needed help and they had no one to turn to. You showed up and decided to take the slimy governors word for it and try to murder them for the act of escaping persecution!” 

“That’s not!” Leia countered before looking back at her father. “That’s not what happened!”

“It is what happened,” Luke answered, “I know because I was leading the relocation effort.” 

“That’s not,” she glowered and kicked at him again. Her foot encountered a solid barrier that had not been there before. “Father!” 

“Do not hit each other. If you wish to spar there is a training room. Eat and be quiet if you are going to argue.” 

“I think we’ve dueled plenty of times,” Luke told her coolly. 

“So far it’s an even record,” she hissed, “but we can try again.” 

“You’ll lose.”

“Like I lost when I captured you?” 

“You had a dozen stormtroopers shooting stun blasts at me. One clipped me out of hundreds. You got lucky.”

“I’m!’ 

“Children!” Vader raised his voice enough that both Leia and Luke clamped their mouths shut. Luke, afraid of the noise and Leia because she could hear the scolding noise. “Stop!”

The second course came and went before anyone spoke again. 

“Son,” Luke shivered and refused to look at either Sith. “A tailor will be arriving tomorrow to help prepare your wardrobe.” 

“A wardrobe?” 

“For special events,” Leia told him, “balls an parties, events, and executions.” She grinned when he glowered. “You also need new robes.”

“I won’t be going to events or balls or parties,” he told them. “I’m not. I’m a rebel and a Jedi. Even you can’t take a Jedi to any of those events.” 

“You are my son, and your future lies in the Empire. Not in your pointless rebellion.” 

“I will not be a part of the Empire that abuses and hurts people for profit and gain. I certainly am not going to be doing it as your puppet, Lord Vader.”

“I am your father,” Vader’s voice boomed, “remember to address me as thus.” 

“I also don’t need any new clothes. These function fine.” 

“You are in desperate need of a make-over. You judged my outfit and called it bargain-bin cheap and you won’t accept new clothes to fit a prince?”

“A jedi does not covet material possessions.” 

“Now even a set of clothes?” 

“Yes.”

“Then don’t covet new clothes, just wear them.”

“I’m not,” Luke sighed deeply, “I don’t need new clothes.” 

“You do need new clothes. You aren’t even interested in some new robes? I wear robes.” She rolled her eyes at her father.

“What is the issue?” Vader asked, and Luke stared down at his plate. “Do you truly believe that you will have no reason or need for new attire? Training, sleep, or otherwise.” 

“What I have now is fine. You don’t need to hire a tailor,” he muttered. 

“I have a tailor and a stylist and a designer that I call,” Leia told him primly. “It is important that you present a proper image.”

“Why?”

“You are my son,” Vader intoned, “that you have been raised to sacrifice your comforts and desires for those who would abuse your giving nature, as well as believe you don’t deserve nice things for yourself is another crime against the rebellion.”

“I don’t need a new wardrobe,” Luke said between clenched teeth, “because I already have what I need and anything more is a frivolous expenditure.” 

“You aren’t denying that you think you don’t deserve nice things,” Leia told him. The third course was served and Luke tried to hold his temper. 

“I don’t need them. If you think I need a fancy new set of clothes to impress people whose impressions of me I don’t care about, that is your problem.” 

“It isn’t about impressions,” Leia smacked the table, “it is about getting an Imperial prince what he needs and deserves. It’s about getting my little brother something besides officers uniforms to wear.” 

“I am a Jedi.” 

“If you don’t think that the Jedi had indulgences and decadence, then you are foolish,” the Sith Lord spoke up. “They were often offered great favors in return for their work. Robes of Nubian silk, tea-sets hand-carved from stone and quartz.”

Luke nearly choked on the slice of meat he was eating, trying to imagine the costs of a set of Jedi robes made with Nubian silk. He had a set of robes that he only ever got out when it was absolutely necessary. Otherwise Luke wore flight suits and mechanics suits. Now that he thought about it, Luke wasn’t even sure he’d ever owned anything that new. 

“I don’t,” he dropped his fork, “that is so…expensive!”

“Yes,” Leia grinned. 

“Why would you spend that much on clothes! That’s absurd! The cost of Nubian silk and the value of the labor and sewing! Plus fitting and alterations! Who needs that?”

“You don’t want a set?” 

“I don’t need a set!” His x-wing was expensive, that much Luke knew. He kept a record of his expenses for his ship. He knew what it needed and what it didn’t. There wasn’t an issue with his ship, but his clothes had always come from another rebel.

“I have a set,” Leia scoffed, “you obviously need a set. We’re twins, we can be a matching pair.”

“Absolutely not.”

“They were often a gift for Jedi who performed admiral deeds for Naboo,” Vader interjected before an argument could break out. 

“A gift,” Luke repeated. That wasn’t so bad if it was a gift. Someone else was spending the money, and then you didn’t need to worry about it. “Oh.” 

“You may consider this a gift.”

“Absolutely not.” 

“Why is everything an ordeal with you?” Leia demanded, and Luke scowled. 

“You said that they were a gift for doing something for Naboo. So it stands to reason that I would have to earn something like that.” 

“Stars,” Leia rolled her eyes, glancing significantly at Vader. 

“As a father, must I have reasons to give my son gifts?” He clenched his fork tightly, not making eye contact until Vader tapped the table. 

“I don’t know,” he gritted out honestly.

“Then what is your issue?”

“I told you that I don’t need them and that I don’t want them,” Luke answered. “I don’t want them from you.” 

“Why not?” 

“Why is that even a question? You’re a Sith Lord! I am a Jedi! You,” he jabbed his dripping knife at Leia, “have tried to kill me a dozen times over. You threatened to have my pilots tortured and shot because you wanted information!” 

“You turned out to be my brother,” she snapped, “the reports from the rebellion only label you as ‘The Padawan’. None of our agents in the rebellion even knew you had a name! You were “The Padawan” to everyone. Did you have to earn your name, Luke?”

“Earn my name! I was supposed to keep it secret for this exact purpose! I’m not taking part in the Empire either.” 

“That is not tonight's conversation,” Vader told him, “there is no room for argument, young one. A tailor will come tomorrow and you will be fitted for new clothes.” 

“But why?!” Luke felt like tugging on hair with burning frustration. “WHY?” 

“You are my son,” Vader said simply. “You need new clothes. You need proper clothes. You need things of your own.” 

“That!” It was pretty good reasoning, but Luke wanted to drag his heels and argue. He didn’t want Vader to be right about anything. “What about Wedge?” 

“That will be handled as well.” 

“Fine,” Luke continued to eat, feeling unreasonably sulky. 

“Is every conversation going to be an argument with you?” Leia wondered.

“Only if you plan on being a brat in every conversation.” 

“Leia, Luke,” The Sith turned from one to the other, each twin taking turns sticking their tongue out at the other when he wasn’t facing them. “Enough arguing. Luke, you are a skilled mechanic?” 

“I…suppose.”

“There are several projects you may have an interest in,” Vader told him, “perhaps you may find something to entertain yourself with.”

“You can finally fix the booster jets of R2-D2.”

“The blue and white droid from hell?”

“You’ve met him?” 

“He nearly captured me,” Luke admitted, and blushed at the attention. “What?”

“Artoo nearly captured you?” 

“He came the closest until you actually did capture me,” he ate a few bites. “I fell into a net. He zapped me and started dragging the net toward the Imperial outpost. I…I managed to escape but it was a close call.” 

“Artoo never mentioned that!”

“Oh, well. He’s gotten close a few times before too. He appears sometimes when…when I’m out…ends up trying to capture me.”

“I’m going to have a few words with that rust-bucket,” Leia promised darkly. 

“Artoo knows his loyalties,” Vader intoned.

“He tried to highjack my ship with me in it!” Luke exclaimed, “he tried to trick me into an escape pod and jettison it during an evacuation! He hacked my datapad to connect me to an imp agent! He’s tried to capture me a million times. Do you know how many times I’ve been tazed and shot by the damn droid? A least a dozen. He’s scary.”

“Well done,” Vader said, “to have evaded such an enemy so well.”

“Not well enough,” Luke grumbled.

“We all fall prey to one enemy or another,” Vader told him seriously. “Including myself.” 

“Yes, well,” Luke coughed into his fist a few times and made a show of looking around. 

They continued eating in silence. Leia not wanting to speak too much, and Luke refusing to speak for fear of letting something loose. He didn’t eat the dessert, choosing to carry it back to his room and hand it to Wedge when he marched into his room. The other rebel looked confused but accepted the food. Luke plopped onto the floor in the middle of his room and tried to meditate. 

It wasn’t going well, Wedge thought, savoring the last of the dessert. He was proven correct when Luke slapped his forehead and fell back onto the floor, groaning. 

“How was dinner?” He asked, and listened to Luke mutter under his breath. “Well?” 

“They’ve ordered a tailor here. Vader wants me to have new clothes.” 

“What’s great!” Wedge blinked when Luke frowned up at him. “What? Not good?” 

“It isn’t good. They’ll want me to look Imperial and Sithly. I am a Jedi Rebel! I don’t want to look like a part of the Empire. Not to mention!” He sighed. “This is…a sign that I am becoming Vader’s son. I don’t want this to be part of what acknowledges me as his son.”

“That is bad,” Wedge agreed, “but you seriously need new clothes.” 

“I don’t want new clothes! They’re…expensive and pointless. I have plenty of clothes already.” 

“You have a few borrowed officers uniforms! None of them fit,” Wedge bent down and plucked at the over-sized sleeve that Luke had rolled over his elbows to keep them from trailing everywhere. “If you’re going to be getting new things, you can at least ask for nice things! Clothes you like! Colors you like! Clothes that fit! Vader is rich! Let him buy you stuff. Please, since he is your father this is his job!” 

“That’s what he said.” Luke rolled onto his side and stared at the wall. “He and Leia are trying to drive me to insanity.” 

“You could get a decent pair of pants then,” Wedge mused, “maybe a set of robes that isn’t threadbare. This is a good thing, Luke. You deserve something nice.” 

“I don’t want nice things.” 

“That’s your problem.” The pilot got off the bed and joined Luke on the floor, sitting next to his head. “You never think you deserve nice things. You never want the good food or the comfortable bed. You always give it to someone else. You give stuff up, Luke. All the time and maybe it is time for you to get something. Even if it is from Vader.” 

“I don’t want things from Vader!”

“Yeah,” Wedge patted his friends head. “I don’t blame you.” 

#$#$#$#

Sudor knocked a few times on the door to Prince Luke’s room and waited for several minutes. When he heard nothing, he commanded the door to open and stepped into the suite. The rebel Wedge Antilles was nowhere to be seen, nor was the prince. He peeked into the bedroom and frowned tightly at the sight of both men under the blankets. It spoke of familiarity that worried Sudor, but also of companionship, he was glad the young prince had.

Both lumps moved when he knocked against the wall. Wedge shot up, training and memory spurring him to move faster than Luke who had grown used to Sudor’s wake-up calls. He offered a bland smile to the stunned rebel and cleared his throat as Luke slowly sat up, still swaying. 

It was a testament to how much more comfortable Luke had grown with him. In the beginning, Luke had been up and dressed before Sudor could even knock on the suite door. Then he had woken violently when Sudor made it into his room. Now, he only just woke up. Used to Sudor’s presence in the force and trusting him. 

“Your Highness,” he bowed, “the tailor will be here in an hour. Please get up.” He watched Luke frowned and the flop back over and pull the blankets over his head. 

“No,” his sleep addled voice was firm.

“Prince Luke.”

“Hold on,” Wedge yanked the blankets off Luke, causing the young prince to yelp, and pushed him out of bed. The boy fell to the ground, cursing. When he straightened, Wedge was smirking. “You’re awake now, better go get dressed.” 

“Fine,” Luke dragged the rest of the blankets off the bed and dumped them on the floor. “I’m going.” 

“Very good,” Sudor kept his smile to himself even as he watched Wedge cross his arms behind his head and feign sleep. “I’ll be waiting outside.” He heard an argument erupt before he was even back to the door. Thankfully, Luke emerged from his bedroom not ten minutes later, dressed for the day. If being with the rebels had taught him anything, it had at least taught him to be quick. “Thank you for your speediness, your highness.” 

“You don’t need to call me that,” Luke sighed, but followed him toward the dining room. “I don’t want to be getting new clothes, Sudor.” 

“I’m sorry, your highness. This is on the orders of Lord Vader.” 

“Of course.” Luke paused when they entered the dining room. Leia was already seated and eating. “What do you want?”

“I’m here to make sure you order something presentable,” Leia told him, “so you don’t embarrass father when you go out.” 

“I don’t need your help,” Luke took his seat at the table and began to eat without really caring what he was eating. 

“I also want you to tell me about the case we discussed yesterday.”

“Which case?”

“The case of the fleeing refugees,” Luke set his fork down and glanced at his sister. Leia was mostly done eating and was typing away on her datapad. “I need information.” 

“Why?” 

“If you are telling the truth.” 

“You doubt me?” 

“Then I don’t want to have this repeated. We’re building an empire that is supposed to protect people.” She gamely ignored Luke’s scoff. “And that doesn’t work if our governors are persecuting people they’re supposed to protect.”

“You’ll find that that sort of governor is everywhere,” Luke tossed his head, “where is my pilot, Biggs?”

“He is fine. I didn’t want to give you too many pilots. You’d get fat.” 

“What?” Luke wondered if Leia was being crazy, like usual, or if it was meant as a message. “Don’t be weird, Leia. I’m not giving you rebellion secrets.” 

“I don’t want rebellion secrets. I want your observations of what happened. How we can make it better. Also, how can we improve an early warning system for this sort of behavior.” 

“Maybe have an early warning system in place, to begin with. Perhaps stop encouraging rampant xenophobia. You should also consider removing a totalitarian government that hunts down entire groups of people. Maybe you should consider that the same people, who you claim brought the Republic down are still in power!” 

“I am not here to be patronized.” 

“I’m not being patronizing,” Luke said cooly, “I’m being honest. Those in power will always abuse those without it. You’ve argued that the Republic was worse, but being a hypocrite doesn’t help your cause.” 

“You are impossible!” Leia shouted, the glass shattered in her grip.“ Order must be maintained! The Republic didn’t help! The Empire has brought order to the galaxy. There is authority on Tatooine! The end of the galaxy that no one cared about twenty years ago!” 

“Order! Order at the expense of justice!” Luke couldn’t force himself to eat another bite. His stomach twisted itself into heavy knots. “You were so desperate for order that you’d murder innocents to pave a smooth road, but pavement made out of bones is still bones!”

“That is ridiculous!” 

“I watched you shoot down civilian transports!” Luke raised his voice, unable to keep calm. “Because one man told you that they were rebels! You didn’t even bother to investigate!” 

They both shoved their seats back, standing quickly. Both twins grabbed one of the dull knives set by the plates, intent on a fight. Before anything else could happen, the door slammed open and Vader stalked through. 

“It is too early for such an argument.” His voice boomed over the room.

Luke set his knife back down, rolling his eyes. “It's five o’clock somewhere. What are you doing here?” He realized how rude it sounded, even to his own ears, just as the words tumbled out. Leia winced, and Vader turned to regard him cooly. 

“This is my home, son,” Vader reminded him, waving a finger his direction. “I am the master of this house, and I do not answer to insolent upstarts who cannot make it through one meal without starting a fight.” 

“I didn’t start the fight,” Luke steadily ignored the pounding in his heart at Vader’s reprimand. “I was going to finish it.” 

“Enough, from the both of you.” Vader took his seat the head of the table. “I am here to ensure that you do not embarrass yourself as a Sith Prince.”

“I am a JEDI!” Luke exclaimed, “not a Sith! Why is this so hard for you to understand?”

“By ordering inappropriate clothing.” Vader finished, ignoring Luke. 

“Damn,” he stabbed the breakfast, “there goes my plan to order a leather bustier and knee-high boots.” Leia squeaked out a small laugh that had to be unintentional. He didn’t quail under Vader’s glower, but it was a close thing. 

“Jedi obstinence is one thing,” Vader told him, “rebel insolence is unacceptable. I expect some manners from you, son.” 

“Except away,” Luke answered blithely, but his heart thudded in his chest. “I’m not going to blindly obey and follow.”

“That’s strange,” Leia said with faux curiosity that made Luke want to claw at his ears, and possibly hers. “Since you’ve been doing that so much.”

“Quiet!” Vader smacked the table, the noise made both twins jump in their seats. “If you cannot go a meal without arguing.” 

“A difference in opinions is not an argument that should rip a family apart!” Luke exclaimed. “You can’t seriously expect us to agree and get along for everything!”

“He’s an idiot Jedi!” Leia argued.

“And she’s a moronic Sith!” Luke shook his head.

“Quiet!” The Sith ordered, “these debates and arguments are for other times! Not for meals. Find something pleasant to discuss or eat in silence.” 

Luke yould deny his sulk and picked at his food slowly. He glanced over at Leia, who looked similarly unhappy. Silence, save for Vader’s breathing, reigned until Sudor arrived and told them that the tailor had arrived and was ready to speak with them.

They paraded into the other room, and Luke wondered if a store had exploded over the inside of the room. There was a tall mirror and a stand. There were fabric and fabrics lines on shelves that had been moved in. A tall woman wearing impeccable clothing stood just inside the door. She was flanked by two assistants. 

“Lord Vader, Princess,” she bowed and two brilliant green eyes settled on Luke. She lifted a perfectly manicured eyebrow. 

“Ms. Rei,” Vader gestured at Luke, who was instantly aware that he was the most poorly dressed in the room. The two assailants were staring at him, awfully judgemental. “My son, Prince Luke.” Ms. Rei gasped beautifully and bowed his direction. He blushed, looking away as Vader continued to speak. “Requires an entirely new wardrobe. Robes, suits, and the bare essentials.” 

“You honor me greatly, Lord Vader. I would be more than happy to outfit the young prince.” 

“Your swift arrival is much appreciated,” Vader told her, before gesturing for Luke to step closer. “I trust your discretion?” 

“Of course,” she glanced slightly over to her assistants who nodded vigorously. 

“Very well,” Vader stepped back and took one of the only seats in the room. He seemed to be wholly prepared to watch the proceedings, and Luke felt an invisible grip tighten over his neck. If it was Vader or Leia, or a product of his imagination, he honestly wasn’t sure. 

“I’m here to make sure my brother doesn’t order ugly clothes,” Leia piped up, “he has awful taste. How about a set of robes first. Proper Sith robes” 

“Proper Jedi robes,” Luke interjected before he could become a pincushion in mini-Vader clothes. 

 

“Jedi?” Ms. Rei pursed her lips, “what were you thinking, milady?” 

Luke was totally befuddled by the conversation that followed. Leia and Ms. Rei seemed to be speaking an entirely new language. He caught every other word and gulped when Ms. Rei rounded on him. 

“Ah,” he stepped back, holding his jacket close. “What?” 

“Your measurements,” she finally seemed confused at his reluctance. “Is there something wrong?”

“Yes! I’m not…comfortable.” He glanced around, knowing that no one was coming to his rescue. It wasn’t like this was something he was used to. 

“You’ll just need to remove your jacket, my lord. I am a professional,” her smile was kind and utterly empty. This won’t take long.” 

He grimaced and slowly pulled the jacket off and let it slid down his arm until he was holding the collar between nerveless fingers. An assistant plucked the jacket from his fingers and Ms. Rei produced a measuring tape. She was right, it didn’t take long, but Luke was all but vibrating with discomfort when she was done. “I have a few ideas,” she told the group. “We should be able to get the basics out of the way today. Underwear is very simple, and undersuits should only need your measurements. It is getting you a decent suit that will be difficult. Not to mention, there are so many different styles of robes to choose from. What sort of fabrics do you like the most?” 

“Erm?” Leia was no help, and Vader was as blank-faced as possible. 

“Do you prefer certain styles of pants?” 

“Uh….no?” 

“What about shirts?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Luke is a blank slate when it comes to fashion,” Leia told her, “he doesn’t know anything about fashion.” 

“Nothing?” Mr. Rei leaned back, and Luke sighed as he nodded reluctantly. “This is a great opportunity to teach you! Let me get my sketchbook and show you the basics.”

On one hand, Luke wanted to run away and make his escape as soon as possible. Maybe crawl back under the covers with Wedge and go to sleep. If he did that then whatever he wore would be chosen by Leia and his father and he knew that he didn’t want to be wearing clothes that they thought here suitable. So he screwed on his political smile. 

“It is true that I don’t have much experience with choosing new clothes and styles,” he said, “but I am willing to learn.” 

“Of course,” she seemed utterly delighted, but there was a cold calculation in her eyes. “I think I know where we can begin.” 

“Excellent.” 

Luke spent a headache-inducing afternoon pouring over fashion designs, styles, and the different meanings of clothes and colors. Leia interjected into the discussion several times to make suggestions that Luke was loathed to agree too. He had a few ideas but they’d only see fruition if he had a little time with Mr. Rei. It lasted long enough that Vader excused himself and sent lunch in. 

“I believe that the designs that I have now are enough to get started, the only thing left now is to discuss which fabrics you’d like for these five designs.” 

“Ah,” this, Luke was nervous about. He trailed up and down the shelves of fabrics and floundered. He had faked his way through most of the conversation today and actually choosing was a task he wasn’t sure he could manage. 

“Try black,” Leia suggested, tapping a bolt of heavy black fabric that looked like the sort her own battle robes were made with. “You'll look fantastic in black.” 

“No thanks,” Luke rolled his eyes, pushing her away from the fabrics, “black really isn’t my color.”

“You’re going to need a set of black robes,” she told him, “father won’t let anything else.” 

“I don’t have to be dressed in black,” Luke reminded her and tapped a bolt of vivid green material that was covered in running lines of gray. “Maybe for design 3?” He suggested and heard Ms. Rei suck in a sharp breath. “What do you think?” 

“This is going to be beautiful!” She pointed to the fabric, now genuinely excited. “What else.” 

“I believe that I will need more sets of robes,” Luke conceded to his sister, “at least one needs to be black.” 

“The same fabric as the princesses?” 

“No, something smoother,” Luke chose a bolt of black and then one of white. 

“You don’t want the entire design in black?” She wavered a bit, “true the accents will grant the robes a certain….but.” 

“White accents,” Luke patted the bolt, “for all of the sets of design 2.” His robes, styled after a Jedi’s but with a little more to make sure people knew he was a prince. He moved down the shelves until he reached a bolt of deep blue silk. He knew that this would appeal to both Leia and Ms. Rei. He continued choosing for the rest of the designs, dragging his feet long enough that Leia had gotten bored and slunk out to check on when dinner was supposed to be ready. Finally, he grabbed on last bolt of fabric and handed it to Ms. Rei. 

“Absolutely not,” she tried to push it back into his arms. “Your father will have me killed.” 

“No he won’t,” Luke pushed it back. “Leia likes you too much.” 

“It offends my fashionable sensibilities to make anything of this color.” 

“Then you have limited fashionable sensibilities,” Luke told her, “Ms. Rei, until a few weeks ago the only identity I had was that of a Jedi. My families history weren’t mine or accept or honor.”

“Prince Luke,” she turned away, sighing. 

“I have a family now,” he said, “but my family wants me to lose who I am. The identity I worked so hard to build when I was denied the chances to inherit anything from my mother or my father.” 

“Your father will give you the entire empire!” She protested, “and your sister!”

“I am Luke Skywalker,” he told her, “Jedi Knight. Commander of Red Squadron in the Rebel Alliance to Restore the Republic. How can I be anything else? You said yourself that clothes have meanings. This means a lot to me.” 

“I will do it,” Ms. Rei said after a long moment consideration, “under conditions. If your father or sister are angry with me, then I blame the entire mess on you.” 

“Agreed.”

“And at an event in the future, I get to dress you.” 

“Event? Which event?” Luke wasn’t sure what that meant. “What sort of event?” 

“The event of my choosing,” Ms. Rei shook her head, every motion she made was beautiful. Luke almost envied her. “I will dress you.” 

“Fine,” Luke held out his hand and they shook on it. 

“Your first proper fitting will be in a few days. You’ve already given 

me plenty to work with.” 

“Do not let them see this,” Luke tapped the bolt in her hands. She was regarding it with disgust.

“I don’t even know why I brought this color,” she muttered, turning to her assistants and passing it off.

“Thank you very much,” Luke bowed slightly and the woman bowed back. He made his escape before anyone could strangle him with a measuring tape. He found Wedge in the conservatory, eyeballing a fruit tree. 

“This is crazy,” he said as Luke walked up behind him. “This stuff is just sitting here. They aren’t even eating them.” 

“I think that they have to grow a little more,” Luke told him, and he wrapped his arms around Wedge for a quick hug. 

“Bad day, huh?” Wedge eased himself around to hug his friend a little better. “It’s over now, Luke. You can relax.” 

“I’m afraid that this is just the beginning,” Luke muttered into his chest. “I’m sorry, Wedge. I’m so sorry.” 

"It's okay, Luke," the other pilot wasn't sure what to say or if there was anything he could say. "I'm not going anywhere."


	3. Fighting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader learns that adapting to a family is harder than previously thought.

Luke alternated between waiting on pins and needles and walking on eggshells. He had several more meetings with Ms. Rei and her alterations team, as well as a few more consultations on different outfits to pick for different events. Leia still dogged his appointments, complaining about his fashion sense and his inability to stop flinching every time their father walked into the breakfast room. 

Per his request, the fashion designer finished his most secret outfit first, which he shoved into the most secure hiding place he could think of, in the pile of towels in his refresher. The only person who looked here was the cleaning droid and Wedge.

“Are you going to do anything?” Leia demanded one afternoon when he’d hidden away in the conservatory to meditate away his anxiety after a lengthy conversation with Vader about leaving the castle and introducing him to the galaxy at large. 

“Do what?” He cracked an eye open and watched her pace furiously in front of him. 

“Do anything!” She exclaimed, “Father wants to introduce you to the Emperor! He will not like that you are a Jedi, but then he’ll understand that father will help you Fall and then you will! You will be the new!” She held her hands in front of herself like she was strangling an invisible person- Possibly the Emperor but also possibly Luke. 

Luke frowned and then shook his head. His hair was growing longer, and he was planning on letting it grow until he could tie it back. Both to infuriate his father, who was making side-ways comments about it and then to annoy Wedge. “I’m not going to Fall, Leia. I don’t know what you’re worried about.” 

“You’ll replace me!” She exclaimed, and Luke gaped. “You will be the new apprentice! You will be the Crown Prince, and you will inherit EVERYTHING that was supposed to be mine! EVERYTHING!”

“I am a Jedi!” Luke sputtered, his concentration breaking finally. The rocks he was levitating falling gently toward the ground. “I can’t be a Sith apprentice, and I refuse to take part in the Empire. You can have the mess!” 

“You see it like that!” She snarled, and he realized that her eyes were burning amber and that faint tears were evaporating before they could fall. “No one else will. Admirals will ask when the proper heir will take my place! The Emperor will demand to know when you will Fall so he can have deposed or killed! He’ll replace me with you!” 

“Why?” Luke asked, wondering why he was interested in knowing the answer. He wasn’t going to do anything with the Empire anyway. 

“You are a man!” She shouted and stomped in front of him, “You are a prince! You…he’ll want you! They’ll want you! That’s why the Jedi stole you. A son murdering his father! You…you are what people want.”

“You,” Luke shook his head, “I don’t understand.” 

“Of course you don’t,” she scoffed, “you’re an idiot Jedi.”

“I am, and I intend to stay a peace-loving Jedi,” Luke closed his eyes and refused to look at her. “Father doesn’t seem the sort to drop his daughter just to have a son as his heir. I won’t do it anyway.” 

“You want me to keep my birthright?” She asked, and he shrugged. 

“Technically our birthright is a democracy, and it isn’t like the Empire will last long. I intend to see it deposed and replaced with a new Republic.” 

“Not this again!” She plopped onto the ground in front of him. “You need to drop this. The Emperor will try to kill you.” 

“You’ve tried,” Luke said, “and never succeeded.” 

“I am not the Emperor…yet. It doesn’t matter. He will destroy you if you disobey him.” 

“Then so be it,” he muttered and sulked only a little when Leia threw a handful of dirt at him. “Hey!”

“You don’t get to be destroyed, little brother,” she scoffed, “Father would never allow it.” Luke bit his lip, not sure if he could malign Vader’s character or if Leia would hit him for that too. “Are any of your clothes done?” 

“They’ll be done soon,” he muttered, shrugging off Leia’s exclamation. “Leia…I don’t intend on taking the throne or having anything to do with your empire.”

“You’d better not,” she threatened, and finally seemed to calm down a little. “I know a few generals and admirals that will not be happy to see you come aboard the as a prince. They would rather you die painfully.” 

“Veers and Thrawn,” Luke said cheerfully, “to name a couple.” 

“And all of the others,” she scoffed, “Thrawn was apoplectic after your more most recent battle. He demanded information on Jedi and Jedi practices. Apparently the ‘artistic expression’ of rebuilding your ship and maintaining it was misleading.” 

“Artistic expression?” 

“Thrawn,” Leia rolled her eyes, “believes that art is the gateway to understanding your opponent and thus designing their downfall. I’ve seen it work many times, but I’ve seen it fail too. It is…strange but he gets results, so we allow it.’ 

“Thrawn has killed thousands of civilians,” Luke said, his mouth twisting with distaste. “If I had artistic expression it would simply be to express how much I dislike him.” Leia chuckled and looked annoyed with herself for laughing. 

“Perhaps there will be a few you will like,” she offered, “Piett is father’s favorite, but we don’t tell him. He’s also my favorite.” 

“Hmm,” Luke twisted his fingers together and swallowed nervously when Sudor approached. He never seemed to come with good news. 

“I am pleased to announce,” he said, bowing to the both of them, “that Prince Luke’s first few sets of clothes are complete.” 

“OHHH!” Leia jumped up, “You can finally get changed into something isn’t an oversized officers uniform! Come, come. Get changed!”

“I’m meditating,” he closed his eyes again, frowning when Leia didn’t move away. 

“Luke! You’ve been wearing the same thing since you got here! Go get changed into something acceptable!”

“If you don’t find this acceptable,” Luke muttered, still refusing to open his eyes. “Then why would you dress your officers like this?”

“LUKE!” His sister yelled. “GO CHANGE!”

“I think I’m alright,” he didn’t exactly smirk, but it was close. He felt Sudor retreat as Leia continued to argue with him. It was amusing since Vader had forbidden them from getting into any physical fights. Not that Luke technically obeyed, but if Leia didn’t throw the first punch then he wasn’t going to try and fight a woman who had managed to level a small mountain in a fight of rage. She was stuck yelling at him which stuttered to a halt when Vader stalked into the conservatory not long after Sudor left. The man was trailing behind the Sith with a long-suffering expression plastered to his face. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Vader demanded. Luke and Leia both level a glower at Sudor, who only shrugged. 

“I’m meditating,” Luke said, screwing his eyes shut again and trying his hardest to pretend neither Sith was there. “Leia keeps interrupting.” 

“He won’t go GET CHANGED!” Leia exclaimed, “he’s just sitting there in that ugly uniform, and now he has clothes to get changed into, and he won’t change!” 

“You are both being absurd,” Vader stated flatly. “I should not be called from official business to handle a squabble over clothes. Luke, change. I never want to see those ill-fitting uniforms again.” 

“WHAT?”

“Leia, stop tormenting your brother.” 

“WHAT?”

Vader waved a finger them both. “Surely you both have something to occupy yourselves besides petty arguing.” 

“I have been meditating!” Luke exclaimed, “you are all interrupting me!” It felt strange to be the only one sitting when everyone else was standing, but he wasn’t going to admit defeat and get up. Vader and Leia both glowered down at him. 

“Hey, Luke!” Wedge called from the door and ambled around a bush while holding a plate of small pastries. He wasn’t looking up and jerked to a sudden halt when he saw Vader and Leia standing in front of Luke. “Uh.” 

“Did you need something, Wedge?” Luke asked, and his friend held up the plate. 

“I got you a snack,” he stared worriedly at Vader. “I can come back if this is a bad time.”

“They were just leaving,” Luke said soothingly. 

“We aren’t leaving until you go get changed,” Leia snapped, “Wedge, go get him something.” 

He turned around. 

“Wedge, stay!” Wedge paused. “Leia, don’t order my friend around.”

“Father!” Leia gestured expansively at Luke, who didn’t look in the slightest bit repentant. 

“Enough!” Vader thundered, and Wedged bit his lip to keep from laughing at them both. It was a lot like the arguments he used to have with his sister. “Both of you go.” 

“WHAT?” The twins both protested at once, and Vader cut them off with a slash of his hand. 

“Your petty arguments are going tedious. Arguing for the sake of arguing solves nothing. Both of you leave.”

Luke rolled his eyes but stood finally. Every line in his body protecting ‘I-did-it-because-I-want-to-not-because-you-told-me-to.’ Leia echoed him, tossing her hair and walking the opposite direction 

“Antilles!” He jerked, nearly dropping the plate when Vader addressed him for the first time in days. “You will stay.”

“Uh,” he glanced wildly at Luke, who finally looked ruffed. 

“Do not fear for your pilot,” Vader said, menacing them both as he stalked closer until he loomed over them. Wedge swallowed down the urge to burst into tears when Vader set a heavy hand on his shoulder. 

“Father,” Luke said warningly, but the man waved him off. 

“Go.” Luke went reluctantly, watching them until he was out of the room. Wedge swallowed and eyed the pastries in his hand.

“Walk with me,” Vader ordered, and he could do nothing but obey. They moved from the cover of the trees to nearby an enormous indoor waterfall. He stared at the little fish swimming in the base pool and hoped that Vader wasn’t going to drown him in it. “How long have you flown with Luke?”

“Uh,” he gulped, watching Vader’s reflection as the man turned to look at him more fully. “Uh…a while.” 

“I am already aware of your defection from the academy, Antilles. How soon after your defection did you start flying with Luke.” 

“Uh,” was he allowed to answer these questions? Should he? Would they reveal some sort of rebel plan that Vader would stop? “Almost immediately.”

“Is he improving?”

“Imp…roving?” He asked and had to wonder what the man was up to. 

“Improving,” Vader said impatiently. “Is he improving?” 

“I…” he looked at the rocks in the bottom of the pool, “I don’t understand.” 

“Health-wise,” he snapped, “when my son came to me.” 

“He didn’t come to you,” Wedge exclaimed, “he was captured. Unwillingly!” 

“He was,” The sith continued, ignoring to his protests, “exhausted and suspicious, untrusting and lacking familiarity with even the most basic luxuries.” 

“Uh, again…he was captured. We both were…and his sister threatened to torture both of us. You….are a Sith…he is a Jedi. Why would he trust either of you? Leia has tried to kill him a dozen times! Why would he be comfortable here?” He finally turned to face Vader, scowling. “And another thing! He’s been a rebel longer than most of us. He’s been out there and fighting the good fight for…years! Evacuations and battles and everything in between with Jedi training! Of course he’s tired and exhausted, and of course, he’s suspicious! You’re the people he’s fighting against!” 

“He is my son! You are not! Heed your words Antilles or suffer the consequences.” 

“Gosh, no wonder you don’t let him argue much. Inconveniently truths too much for you?” They glowered at each other.

“The rebellion has raised my son as a weapon, that much is clear.” 

“Anyone could say the same about Leia,” he argued and refused to quail when the temperature in the area physically dropped. To salvage the situation he spoke again. “But good job getting him new clothes. He’s been needing those.” 

Vader relaxed a bit, enough that Wedge realized what the man was reaching for. Compliments on his parenting and basically to check if Luke was happy where he was. Luke really had needed new clothes, but there was no way he was going to be the Emperor’s new attack dog. 

It was a little strange he was asking Wedge, but at this point, he wasn’t sure that Luke would try to have a civil conversation with either of his family members. No one seemed to realize that Luke was learning how to be firmer in his convictions and make his own decisions. At the disposal of the Rebellion, he’d been agreeable and had agreed to every single mission. It wasn’t as if he had a choice. He went where the older members of the rebellion ordered him to go. Here, he had the chance and the reason to say no. This place was at least for Luke to build some boundaries between himself and the people giving him orders. 

It was kind of nice, but also a bit depressing. 

“Is he pleased with his wardrobe?” 

“Uh…I think so.”

“Luke will want for nothing,” Vader ordered, “you will report if Luke is not happy.”

“I am not sure that I can.”

“You will,” Vader poked him in the chest, “do as ordered. As his pilot, you owe him your loyalty. I wish to be informed of the slightest upset.” 

“Uh.” Vader was intensely focused and terrifying, but Wedge still had his friendship to maintain. “Within reason.” 

“You.” 

“I am not going to lose his trust and friendship because you are…whatever. If Luke thinks I’m informing on his every word, then he’ll never tell me anything. Also, have you considered asking him what he wants?”

“Luke wants for nothing,” Vader waved him off, “he has been trained to desire nothing for himself and insisted on being clothed in rags and the flag of insurrectionists.”

“Uh,” Wedge wanted to argue, but it was impossible to argue against the truth. Luke really was selfless, the only thing he’d seen the blond bond with was his ship. “Within reason.” He repeated and retreated as soon as Vader dismissed him. Luke collared him outside the conservatory, dragging him into one of the unused parlor rooms. 

“What did he want? Are you alright? Wedge, did he hurt you?” 

“No, I’m okay,” Wedge hugged him fiercely. “It’s fine, Luke. He just…wanted to know about you.”

“About me? What does he want to know about me?”

“Uh, just…if you’re happy and if there are things you want. Uh, he told me to report to him when you’re…unhappy or wants things.”

“That’s.” Luke glanced to the side, his face scrunching up. “Odd. Why did he want to know…why does he want to know any of that?”

“I think he wants validation of his parenting,” he said and grinned at Luke’s dumbfounded expression. “Seriously, and I don’t want to snitch on you…even to your own father.” 

“Ah,” Luke shrugged awkwardly, seemingly confused and embarrassed, “let’s go.”

“See what clothes are ready, but I love you, Luke; but you need something new to wear.”

“Wedge, how can you?” Luke complained but didn’t seem too annoyed with him. “I thought you were my friend?”

“I am your friend,” he laughed, slinging an arm over his shoulder. “Which is why I want you to wear something new and clean.” 

“This is clean.” The Jedi muttered and ended up putting on one of the new sets of robes. Unfortunately, it was a little dark for his tastes, but Wedge whistled appreciatively. 

“Nice,” he twirled his hand, “come on, give it a spin.” 

Luke complied, blushed when his friend continued to whistle. “Dark, scary, and a bit sexy. That Ms. Rei really knows here stuff.” 

“You’re being stupid,” Luke huffed and smoothed down his front. It was beautiful and well-made, and he was a little annoyed at how nice he did look. It was brand new, designed for him, and it fit perfectly. It was the first time since he’d grown up that he had something so new. “Is there anything less formal? I don’t want to go to dinner looking so formal.” 

“Yeah,” Wedge tossed him a bundle of clothes, “but it might look like pajamas. You know…aside from getting into fist fights with the Bane of the Rebellion; you don’t need to go around in full war-gear. Please,” his eyes lit up, “Luke, I’m begging you! Go down in something so…so…uh, relaxed that they get confused! Full war-gear or formal robes are a little much, and they’ll expect it.”

“This doesn’t have anything to do with your conversation with my father; does it?” Luke wondered, changing quickly and storing his new robes properly. His old ones were sitting somewhere in a rebel base. Maybe Ezra would finally get a set of robes for himself. 

“No,” Wedge frowned, “I would never betray you, Luke.”

“I know,” Luke shrugged, and sat next to his friend on the bed. “Father…wants me to be…I dunno how they say it. Presented? He wants to flaunt to the galaxy that I’m his son. He wants to tell everyone that I’m his son and then…the rebellion will think I’ve betrayed them.” 

“No, they won’t,” Wedge took his hand, “Luke, you’ve been fighting for the rebellion for years. They can’t accuse you of being a turncoat. Who your father is doesn’t make you evil. You are a Jedi; you’re the greatest Jedi.” 

“You’re just saying that to cheer me up,” Luke brushed his knuckles along the beautiful fabric, “thank you though.”

“It is true,” Wedge said earnestly, “and if we weren’t both being held hostage, I’m sure we could come up with a plan to escape.”

“True, we are very good at those.” He laughed weakly and shook his head. “I don’t see any way out of this, Wedge. My father and my sister are dark siders. They seem to care but in a…twisted way. I’ve never had a family before.” 

“You fight like mine did,” Wedge sighed, “my sister and I couldn’t agree on anything.”

“Can your sister use a lightsaber and kill you with a little Force?” 

“No,” Wedge coughed into his fist, uncomfortable, “she can’t.”

#$#$#$

Dinner was supposed to be a quiet affair, but it was anything but when Vader stepped through the door. To find Luke perched on top of the table, just managing to avoid getting his house shoes in a bowl of food, glowering down at R2-D2. Leia was collapsed over a chair, laughing hysterically at her brother. 

“No! I will not come down!” Luke yelped, hefting a plate like a weapon.”Buzz off!” 

“Oh, shit!” From the door opposite, Antilles waltzed through and immediately reversed when he caught sight of the droid. “It’s the droid from hell!” 

“Thank you,” Luke snapped at his retreating friend, “for your courage!” 

Wedge reappeared momentarily, “what is that droid doing here?”

“Menacing me!” Luke complained, “go away! I don’t want to be your friend, and I want nothing to do with you!” 

Artoo buzzed at him, whirling his dome around and focusing on Vader. He continued to beep. 

“If you have tormented Luke in the past, can you reasonably expect him to accept you now?” He asked, watching Luke blush furiously. Artoo blatted rudely at Luke and rolled toward Leia, buzzing when she pet his dome. “Luke, off the table.” 

“What assurances do I have that the droid isn’t going to try to destroy me?” Luke didn’t move even as Vader took his seat at the head of the table. 

“There is none,” Leia chortled, making her way to her seat. “Artoo is the best.” 

“You are a menace,” Luke informed the droid seriously, climbing off the table gingerly and taking his seat and sitting cross-legged to keep the droid from rolling over his feet. 

“You are,” Wedge piped up, having snuck around the walls to his seat.

“It is his prerogative,” Vader said, “there are none like him.” 

“Right,” Luke watched the droid carefully. “None like him.”

#$#$#$#

“YOU! LITTLE! BASTARD!” Luke ducked as a steak knife embedded itself in the wall where his head had been, propelled by a furious Leia. “HOW DARE YOU! 

“Now, now,” he rolled behind a heavy chair, “don’t be upset. I didn’t even cheat this time!” 

“How can you keep beating me?” She screeched, and the chair was hoisted by the Force and nearly smashed on his head if he hadn’t ducked out the opening door, blowing his sister a loud raspberry as he escaped. 

Rather, almost escaped. A heavy hand clasped his shoulder and yanked him to a sudden halt. He couldn’t help but yelp in surprise as his father dragged him back into the room. 

“What is the meaning of this?” The Sith Lord demanded, glowering at Leia and all shaking Luke. “What have you done to the sitting room?” 

It didn’t look good. There were several knives in the walls, thrown but Leia and Luke after the initial mad scramble for wieldable silver-ware. A few shattered plates and cups, and several pieces of skewered or otherwise overturned chairs and a small table. Leia stood in the middle of the room, clutching a butter-knife in one hand and frozen. 

The reason they fight had broken out had been stupidly simple, and Luke felt faintly ridiculous for getting into and egging on a fight that was over a stupid card game. One of the events Sudor had set up to get the twins to start bonding. Needless to say, it hadn’t worked. 

“Uh,” Luke glanced at Leia, and tried to affect a measure of contrition. “You see. I might have said….a few things about….the uh, about Leia’s ability to lead.” He coughed into his fist, trying to ease his way out of Vader’s grip. He nearly succeeded when Vader let go of his arm, and yelped when the Sith gripped his ear and gave a firm tug. 

“You are lying to me,” Vader said, one hand on his hip and the other one holding Luke. 

“I am not!” He protested, glancing at Leia. She looked sympathetic and a little guilty. “Ouch!” Vader tugged his ear again. 

“You are lying to me, young one.” Luke would have felt guilty about it. “You have already destroyed the sitting room, and have ruined several pieces of furniture.” His mask turned to Leia who’s mouth was shut, and seemed to sigh. “What is the nature of your fight this time?” 

“We were saying horrible things to each other,” Luke said stubbornly, “you know a Jedi, and a Sith doesn’t get along.” There was no way he was going to reveal the true nature of the fight. 

“You called me names!” Leia said, and Luke gaped. No, he hadn’t!

“You threw knives at me!” 

“Enough!” Vader tightened his grip, and Luke yelped again. Forgetting his very dangerous position. “Leia, you will be charged with straightening this room. Once you are complete, you are confined to your room until tomorrow morning.” 

“Father!” She was aghast, and Luke almost felt sorry for her before Vader turned to him. 

“We,” Vader said sternly, “are going to discuss your willingness to lie to me.” Vader turned around, yanking a reluctant and frankly embarrassed Luke behind him. 

“Father,” Luke yelled, struggling to keep up with Vader’s long strides, “there’s no need to. Ow!” He caught sight of a stunned Wedge before the Sith pulled him back toward the rooms Luke had been forbidden from. His office and his hyperbaric chamber. He swallowed nervously as Vader pulled him into his office and pointed at one of the chairs across from his desk. 

“Sit.” Luke sat reluctantly, cupping a hand over his now faintly aching ear. He remained silent as Vader paced a few times around the desk and finally stopped. 

“Lying in my presence is futile, young one.” Luke always felt a bit surprised every single time Vader called him that. “I sense all lies, and if you believe that my children can mislead me in a case a small as this, then you think poorly of my abilities.” Without anything to say, and unwilling to incriminate himself further, Luke focused on the floor. “For weeks you only antagonize your sister, fight her at every opportunity, and yet today you choose to defend her? Lying to me?” 

“She is a Sith,” Luke focused on the carpet, “I am a Jedi. You cannot expect us to get along.” 

“I can and do expect you to get along,” his father rumbled. “You must present a united front when you are presented as my son. “That fact that you are willing to lie to me or such a small detail, the nature of the fight, informs me that you are unwilling to accept our relationship or have a compulsion for lying. Perhaps both. I am less concerned with the cause of this new fight.” 

“I am not defending anyone,” Luke muttered bitterly, “and I am not a habitual liar. As for the other thing. How can I be expected to simply accept two Sith as my family? I am a Jedi, and you want me to be a Sith. I can never be a Sith. Thus I can never be your son. As long as I am here, it is only a parody of a family. You were happier with Leia being your only child.” He wasn’t sure where the sentiment had come from, he hadn’t even realized it was something he felt bitter about. “So far I’m still not convinced that you’re not lying to me about this and attempting to use it to seduce me to the dark side.” 

He peeked at Vader from beneath his lengthening bangs. The Sith Lord was frozen at his desk for what seemed an eternity. 

“If I had been lying to you,” Vader said finally, “then you would have sensed such an enormous lie, even if you were a weak force sensitive.” 

“Maybe,” Luke said quietly, “you are also very strong. It is possible to lie to another force sensitive.” 

“Perhaps, but I have no desire to lie to you. You are my son, perhaps a misguided Jedi of a son, but you are my son. Do you sense that I am lying to you now?”

He didn’t want to answer, but Vader waited until the silence was so stifling and horrible that he finally did. “No.” 

“I do not appreciate lies, young one,” and luke was definitely not squirming under Vader's attention. “For whatever reason, you may have chosen to tell them.” 

“But.” 

“No,” Vader set his hand firmly on the table, “I do not accept lies.” 

“I was only.” Luke floundered, fear twisting in his stomach. 

“You are confined to your room,” his father said with utter finality.

“The reason for the fight was too stupid to tell you!” Luke exclaimed, gulping when Vader stood. 

“You are being punished for destroying the sitting room and lying,” Vader then said, “I have given you much to think about over the next few days. No doubt you will contemplate them.” 

“What?” Luke stood when his father gestured at him, too shocked to disobey. 

“We will discuss your lapse of honesty,” Vader escorted him from his office, “later.” 

“Until a few weeks ago,” Luke exclaimed, “the only time I saw either of you was at the wrong end of a blaster, an orbital bombardment, or a lightsaber!” He stumbled. “Now, after being stuck in a castle with my best friend held as a hostage and everything from my clothes to my food being chosen for me, you expect me to fall into a happy family routine?” He pushed Vader’s hand off his shoulder, twisting to stand in front of him. “How you be this dense?”

“Excuse you?”

“Excuse you!” Luke exclaimed, “I’ve been in an active war zone since I was 13! I’ve been flying missions as soon as I could reach all of the controls! I’ve been from the high palaces to the slums trying to help people and always, always, ALWAYS! You and Leia were the enemy I was evading or escaping! You may be my father by technicality but in actuality? You’re not anything but an overly affectionate jailor!” 

Vader stared and continued to stare. 

“You.” 

“No!” Luke shouted, and he threw his hands up. “It isn’t like you’ll understand! You have tunnel vision, which isn’t a surprise given your limited visibility in your helmet. If you need me to make any more useless overtures of parenting, you know where I’ll be!” He turned around and stormed away. Vader didn’t follow him, and when he reached his rooms, he drew up short to see Sudor tidying the tiny and useless throw pillows on his couch. 

“Your Highness?” His concern was almost warming, but Luke felt oddly fragile at the moment. He looked away. “Are you alright? “

“I’m fine,” he managed, “please leave. I need…some space.”

Sudor didn’t move for a moment but nodded. “I’ve been informed by Lord Vader that Mr. Antilles is to be moved to another room.” 

“Of course he is,” Luke bit his lip until the man left before he finally began to cry. He wasn’t even sure why he was crying at this point. Maybe that fact that his only surviving relatives were both Sith Lords who wanted him to become a Sith Lord. The fact that he was a prisoner in most meanings of the word.   
He felt trapped and alone, miserable and expected to perform a routine in a dance he’d never practiced for. Family? What did that even mean? Being stuck in the same house with two people, he couldn’t agree with? Being tormented for his Jedi or rebel status? His best friend held as a hostage? 

He sank to the floor at the end of the bed, cover his mouth with his hands and trying to keep from getting his new clothes ruined. 

Why was he so angry? He was never this angry, and he hadn’t been in years. 

A little beep startled him, and Luke blinked up to see Artoo. 

“Oh, what are you doing here?” He hurled a throw pillow at the droid, “go away!” For a moment the droid seemed to contemplate obeying, but he rolled forward. “Of course you won’t. You work for my father.” Luke jumped to his feet, furious. “Of course, it’s all about him. It is always about him! His legendary Jedi skill or his current Sith ones! Everything is about him, and nothing I do will ever change that! He wants me to fall in line with that! He wants me to obey and cower in front of him just because he’s my father! I don’t care!” He shouted, scrubbing tears from his cheeks. “I don’t care! It isn’t fair!” Luke cried. “It isn’t fair! He can’t do this! They can’t do this!” 

Artoo beeped, rolling toward him and Luke stormed away. 

“How dare he think he can just move into my life after years and years of trying to kill me and fighting for everything I stand against and think that he can ground me? Think that he can give me a talking to like his opinion actually matters?” Artoo buzzed at him, and Luke whirled around. “I AM ANGRY!” He shouted. “I FURIOUS! WHAT GIVE HIM THE RIGHT TO TRY AND BE MY FATHER! I’m a Jedi! I don’t get a father! I get a master, and a million missions and no one ever cared how I felt or if I needed new clothes or if I was lying about something stupid.” Luke paused, gasping for breath as the sobs tried to chase each other out of his throat but only managed to choke him off. “I haven’t needed a father, and I don’t need one! I wanted him dead before, and now I want him gone!” 

It might not have been so bad if Vader hadn’t tried to be a father. What a father might have been or should have been. He felt worse having slapped Vader’s overtures away, and a bit sick when the man seemed to care. 

Was it care or was it some insane attachment that came from a word that literally had no meaning to Luke. Son? What was this nonsense, these attempts at parenting him? All of this meant nothing to him. He had no context for it. 

Luke sat beside his bed, burying his face in his hands and continued to cry. He had shouted at Vader. He’d yelled at him, and there was no telling how he’d react. 

There was no telling how the Sith would react. 

#$#$#$#$

Vader had no felt this off balance in his ability to parent a high strung teenager since Leia had first stormed puberty. Leia and Luke were not getting along. Luke refused to acknowledge him as his father, and what was worse, still seemed to believe that he had no authority over him. 

What was worse was the fact that everything was true. Luke had been nothing but honest, and he was distressed, genuinely. 

He paced the room until Sudor entered. At once Vader knew what the man wanted. 

“Lord Vader,” the room was near silent, Vader glowering at the wall and refusing to acknowledge the man. “Sir.” 

“Is he well?” Vader demanded finally, and the man nodded slowly. 

“Distressed, my lord…and.”

“Understandably so,” he slammed a fist into his palm, “have I lost my son, Sudor?” 

“I can’t say so, my lord. I believe that he is distressed…reasonably, but he is very different from Leia.” 

“He was a Jedi.”

“My lord…I believe that Luke is still a Jedi.” Sudor pulled a small packet out of his pocket and held it out. “When he learned the truth he was…distraught.” He unfolded the paper to see a bright blond braid, thin and long, hanging from the inside. It was Luke’s Padawan braid. “He believed that he was not worthy of being a Jedi if you were his father.”

“There are none more worthy,” Vader said immediately, “than Luke to be a Jedi.” 

“I agree, sir.” Sudor coughed to the side, “but as a Jedi…he had never had a family. He has had nothing even approaching a family. You…and Leia, despite or even because of your Sith status, means that you both know more of families.” 

“He will not know how to reconcile being a Jedi…and son.” Vader said suddenly, realizing where he had gone wrong. He had not been able to be a Jedi and a husband. It wasn’t something you could balance; it was something you had to grow into. Luke would have to learn how to be a son.

“I believe a…delicate balance is required, my lord. I do not believe that you can push…him further than he has already been pushed.” 

“He is my son!” 

“You will lose him,” Sudor said, totally unafraid of death as the Sith bore down on him, “you will if you push.” 

Vader whirled around, gesturing violently, “BAH! Am I to sit back and do nothing? Be as useless as a Senator?” 

“My lord,” Sudor implored, “please!” 

“He was willful and disrespectful! He lied to me! He shouted, showed no respect for my authority!” 

“Why should he? Sir,” Sudor refused to be intimidated, something that Vader had always admired from the man. Except now, when it was more frustrating than anything. “He is a Jedi, in truth and practice! Consider him…a flower.” 

Vader paused, turning incredulously toward the window where he could see a faint bit of green through the glass that was the conservatory window. “A flower?” He repeated blankly. 

“A flower,” Sudor repeated with renewed confidence. “In many respects, it is very accurate. Luke…will bloom under care and affection,” he grimaced, “delicate care and affection.” He clarified.

“If I do nothing, he will blast entire fleets from the sky.” 

“I am not suggesting avoid parenting totally, my lord,” Sudor sighed, and Vader knew he was rolling his eyes. “Set firm, and wide boundaries.” 

“This is ridiculous,” he glowered, “very well. Let Luke throw his tantrums. As long as he does not cross the more serious lines.” 

“Very good,” Sudor paused, “would you like me to speak to him?” 

He searched the castle for Luke’s signature and felt the Force around him. “Wait for him to calm down.


	4. Visitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke is still adjusting to his father's identity when he learns his mother's.

Leia didn’t want to admit how worried she was. Having been confined to her room gave her time to think, and then time to worry.

She didn’t want to worry. Luke was only a brother. A redundancy and he was a rebel Jedi to boot. Father hadn’t too upset, Leia knew what it was like when he was genuinely angry. Did Luke know that? Did Luke understand that Vader would never hurt him? 

Well, never hurt him again? 

Since his emotions were broadcasting wildly over the Force and down the link that they shared, Leia supposed not. 

“Princess?” She felt Sudor approaching long before he knocked and waved for him to be let in. 

“Hello, Sudor.” 

“Princess, you did a fine job on the living room. Almost as good as new.” 

“Thank you,” she smiled faintly as he set her dinner on the table. “I don’t suppose Father will reconsider?” 

“I don’t think so, Princess Leia. When I spoke to him, he seemed very annoyed with the both of you.” He began to unpack the tray. 

“What did he do to Luke? He is a weak Jedi; he can’t handle what I can.” 

“I don’t think an evenings worth of time-out is handling too much, Princess Leia.” He hefted a tea-cup. “Are you worried?” 

“No!” She scoffed. “Of course not!” 

“He is your brother,” Sudor reminded her pointlessly. “You should at least be able to worry about your brother.” 

“I’m not worried!” 

“He has been through a rather traumatic experience lately. I’m impressed with his resilience.” He ignored her glower. Sudor was one of the few people she wouldn’t hurt, and he knew it. “So many would have broken under less.” 

“He will learn true resilience,” she tossed her head. “He must adapt, or he will perish in the Emperor’s court.” 

“I,” Sudor glanced down at the food. “I see.” 

#$#$#$ 

Luke spent the next few days in his room, refusing to come out and picking at the food on his plate. Sudor, ever patient, continued to bring them and made no comment. The steward seemed reluctant to push Luke out of his comfort zone, a far cry from a week ago. Even Vader didn’t demand that Luke appear for a meal, seemingly fine with letting the Jedi sulk in his room. 

And he was sulking, and trying to plan his escape. 

Who did Vader think he was anyway? Luke knew with every fiber of his being that he was right about Vader and his demands. The Sith had no right to Luke, to his obedience, or his loyalty. He hadn’t been there when Luke was sick. That had been Obi-Wan, patiently pressing a cool towel to his forehead while Luke rambled on in his feverish daze. Vader hadn’t taught him how to fly; Hera Syndulla had. It had been Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, and Kanan, who taught him how to wield a lightsaber and defend himself. 

Luke had a lot of teachers to teach him how to wield the Force. Not only Jedi but Force-Users on small moons and uncharted planets. People who knew the Force differently than the Jedi. Who had vastly different techniques and had varying philosophies.   
He had been raised by the rebellion at large; Jedi, pilots, and politicians. There were holos of him gumming Bail Organa’s shiny collar as the man tried to organize a blockade run. 

“I’m not being petty,” he rolled over, pushing his blankets back and stared at the chronometer. It was late in the afternoon. His lunch was still sitting on the bed-side table. Artoo made a buzzing noise, and Luke rolled his eyes. “I’m not being petty. I’m just tired.” He stared at the ceiling and wanted to get up. He wanted to go practice or meditate, but… “Why didn’t they tell me?” Artoo beeped, Luke let his hand fall off the bed to pat his dome. “They didn’t tell me that I was fighting my sister…that I nearly killed her. Or that Vader was my father. Was that why they said I needed to keep my name a secret?” He felt silly for asking such an obvious question. That was definitely why. “Did they think I was going to turn if I knew?” The empty weight of his missing padawan braid hung heavy on his mind. “Did they really think that I’d give up on the Jedi…on the light?” Artoo buzzed again, and his little appendage reached up to poke Luke’s wrist. He stared confused until he realized that the droid was trying to comfort him. “Thanks, Artoo.” 

Maybe they did think he was going to go to the Sith. Leia was a Sith. Infamous for her ruthless tactics and her all-consuming power. She had been raised by Vader through. For every memory the rebellion had of a toddling Luke getting into messes and causing trouble, the Imperials had a parallel memory of Leia. Luke’s first solo-flight was at 10, Leia’s was probably equally young. 

“I have to get up.” He stared at Artoo, willing himself to rise. “I should go….practice!” Vader had a training room somewhere in this fortress. Leia had to have been trained somewhere. “I will!” He surged upright and his vision blurred. “I really should eat something.”

#$#$# 

Sudor fought down an ecstatic smile as the sight of Luke following Artoo down the hall dressed in training clothes. 

“Luke,” he nodded at the young Jedi. It was difficult to keep from addressing him properly. “How are you feeling?” 

“Like I need to practice,” his bright blue eyes were shadowed, but he managed a faint smile at Artoo. “He was just taking me down to the training room.” 

“That is a good idea.” 

“Where is Wedge?” Luke asked. 

“He is doing as well as can be expected. I believe that he is very worried about you.” 

“Well, I was worried about me,” Luke admitted. “I didn’t think one could yell at Darth Vader and get away with it.” 

“The pool,” Sudor told him patiently, “is very, very small.” 

A faint smile flickered over his face, “that sounds about right.” 

“Is there something I can bring you? The chef just made a wonderful set of chocolate pastries yesterday.”

“That’s alright, Sudor,” Luke told him, “I just thought I’d go practice. I haven’t had time to stretch my legs at all. I’m afraid that I do need to brush up since Leia managed to capture me last time.” 

“As I understand,” Sudor followed the young Jedi through the halls. “She had a good number of the 501st with her, and you were stunned.” 

“Yes, but I need practice with the Force. I’ve evaded capture from other crews all trained specifically to bring me in. Does he have any training bots with blasters?” 

“Yes,” Sudor grimaced, “but for your sake, please keep them on a low power. Lord Vader will….fuss…if you are injured.” 

“Fuss?” The prince seemed torn between amusement and fear. “I suppose I can do that.” 

They reached the training room, and Sudor stepped behind the protective barrier. It had been installed for him to specifically overlook Leia’s practice. He didn’t have any Force sensitivity to protect himself when things went flying.

 

#$#$#$#

A brilliant starburst of light erupted in Vader’s vision, nearly knocking him over as spots danced before his eyes. Every cell of his being protested the brilliance and he retreated within a shell of darkness out of instinct. It was a wretched way to hide, especially since the Force seemed to delight in his son's power. 

Over the last few days, Luke’s presence had been dim, almost bleak. He had been depressed since his arrival and angry since their confrontation. It showed a distinct uptick in his mood if he could swamp the castle with his light. 

He cursed himself if only he’d sensed this before he would have known that Luke was his son. How could Leia have missed this the first few times they’d fought? 

Vader didn’t realize he was moving until he found himself outside the training room. In the middle of the mat was Luke, wearing his new exercise clothes and a red training saber in one hand. Four droids circled about him, firing low power shots. None of them touched him. If he didn’t re-directed the bolt harmlessly into the wall or ceiling, he dodged with superhuman grace. The Force granting him unbelievably high jumps and reaction time. It was an elegance, moving flawlessly in time with the Force, that even Leia had difficulty doing. 

Artoo buzzed at Vader’s knee. Since he hadn’t seen the droid sine his and Luke’s explosive argument, he assumed that Artoo had bonded with the Jedi. 

“DO YOU HAVE TO GLOW LIKE A FIREFLY?” Leia burst into the training room, livid and shouting. Luke didn’t stumble an inch. He turned off the droids with the Force and fell neatly into a meditative pose as Leia advanced on him. “SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO CONCENTRATE!”

“Hello, Leia,” Luke smiled faintly, panting as he looked up at her. “How are you?” 

“Father!” Leia whirled on Vader, jabbing a finger at her brother. “Tell him he can’t do that!” 

“Meditate?” Baffled, Luke brushed sweat away from his eyes before accepting the bottle of water that Sudor offered him. “Thank you.” 

“Use the Light!” She exclaimed, and alarm fixed onto Luke’s face. 

“You can’t ban me from using the light!” He argued, “that is preposterous.” 

“Father!” 

“No,” Vader answered flatly, taking the wind out of Leia’s sails and starling his son badly. “There is no need to make such a racket.” 

“I wasn’t!” Leia sputtered at Vader’s correction. “This is a Sith castle! Not a home for vagabond Jedi!”

“I thought that was exactly what this place was?” Luke was smiling into his shoulder. 

“Absolutely not!” Leia set her hands on her hips, glowering venomously. “You!” She jabbed a finger Luke’s way. “Don’t do that!” 

“Don’t bully your brother,” Vader told her. “If I recall, you have several memos left to draft for the Imperial Senate.” 

“Yes,” she spat, “which I can’t concentrate on while Luke is broadcasting like a search-light.” 

“And you came to the light,” Luke answered, “tell me, Leia. Are you a moth?” 

“A moth?” She almost screeched, flinging out a hand and summoned a lightsaber in a heartbeat. Twin red blades crashed against each other, sending sparks flying. Luke was one his feet, Leia bearing down on his snarling. “TAKE THAT BACK!” 

“Why?” Luke asked, with faux politeness, disengaging the blades and stepping back. 

“You’re the moth!” She attacked, spitting mad and summoning crushing darkness. 

None of the parenting books had prepared Vader for this. Luke replied, his words lost in the buzzing clashes and the roar of two powerful Force-users bring the full force of the power against each other. Both were arrogant, he noted, as Leia narrowly avoided being decapitated. Clearly practiced and near-flawless duelers, and they used the Force very well; bouncing from one end of the training room to the other, using the exercise equipment as jumping points and hiding places. The witty banter was a nice change of pace, instead of arguing the semantics of the Jedi and Sith, they were trading clever insults. Leia was scowling, and Luke was grinning, obviously enjoying goading his sister. 

That sort of behavior couldn’t be allowed to continue. Leia had a delicate temper as of late, all stemming from her insecurities rising from Luke’s sudden appearance. 

He waited until they were both more-or-less on the mat in front of him before snaking out a tendril of the Force to snag each of them by an ankle and hoist them suddenly upside down while yanking the lightsabers from their hands. 

“FATHER!” It wasn’t from Leia but from Luke. Everyone seemed just as surprised as Luke at the word. “HEY!” 

“What is the meaning of this!” Leia demanded. 

“You are both skilled duelists,” Vader praised, “and your use of the Force while fighting is equally impressive.” The twins exchanged a glance, and Luke blushed faintly. Actually, that wasn’t blushing; blood was rushing to his head. “However, Luke.” 

“Wha?” 

“Needling your sister is beneath you.” 

“Actually.” Whatever smarmy comeback Luke had planned vanished into a yelp as Vader dropped him head-first onto the mat. “Ow.” He let Leia down a little more gently. His daughter stood up just a second later, spitting mad. 

“We did not need an intervention!” 

“Clearly you did,” He crossed his arms. Luke staggered upright, gingerly patting his head. “Remember that I have forbidden you from doing serious harm to each other.” 

“Serious harm.” Luke made a show of brushing down his clothes. 

“Since non-violence is clearly out of the question.”

Sudor coughed suddenly, avoiding looking at Vader as he returned Luke his bottle and handed Leia one. They were both sweating profusely, but as tired as he Luke seemed, he also looked reenergized. Around him, the Force was singing. 

“If you had fought like that before,” Leia tossed her hair, “perhaps I wouldn’t have captured you.” 

“You cheated! You attacked me, and then you had your little troopers trying to overwhelm my defenses!” 

“Which worked! I captured you, didn’t I? ‘

“And my pilots! Speaking of them, I want to see Biggs.” 

“The defector?” Vader glowered at his unrepentant son.

“They’re both defectors.”

“You may visit,” he told him magnanimously. “Only for ten minutes.” 

“Ten minutes! I haven’t seen Biggs in almost three weeks! An hour!” 

“15 minutes.” Leia glanced between them. 

“45 minutes!” 

“Half an hour,” Vader rumbled, “and you wear your new robes. That is my final offer.” 

“Fine.” As much as Luke was frowning, he seemed pleased. 

#$#$#

Biggs Darklighters hadn’t seen much of anyone in the last three weeks. They’d taken Wedge away, and given him no information on his best friend. The food was actually pretty decent, all things considered. A little fattening and he was worried about his waistline since he hadn’t gotten any chance to exercise. 

He was also worried that they’d suddenly stop feeding him, and it would be worse than if they’d started off starving him. Boredom was his closest friend at the moment, and he was trying to remember verb conjugations in Ryl when the door slid open.

“Biggs!” He shot upright, staring at his Jedi Commander. Luke was beaming, at odd with the worries that Biggs had been harboring in the back of his mind. Bright blue eyes were sparkling, and Luke was yanking him into a hug. “Are you alright? I’m sorry it has taken me so long to get to you.” 

“Is this a jailbreak, boss?” Luke wsn’t a very affectionate person one most days, and Biggs had been alone long enough he was worried for his sanity; he hugged just as tightly and didn’t let go. 

“No, I’m sorry it isn’t. Vader has only allowed me a short visit.” 

“Vader? He’s here? “And Luke was still alive? 

“Yes.” Biggs took a moment to get a good look at Luke. His robes were..new. They smelled new, they looked new, and they looked expensive as hell — black fabric, dark blue, with a few swathes of purples around his waist. He looked Dark, very much like a Sith. Luke even had new and unscuffed boots. “Luke…have you…defected?” 

“Never!” The blond exclaimed, squeezing Biggs’ elbows. “No, Biggs, I never would become a Sith. I’m a Jedi! I always will be!”

“Then what’s with the get-up? You’re dressed like Princess Vader!” 

“I know! I don’t like it!” Luke stared up at him, imploring him to understand. “I had to wear this…it was one of the conditions of visiting you.” 

“Conditions?” 

“Vader, he would only let me visit if I wore…the robes.” 

“He hasn’t hurt you?” 

“No, has he hurt you?” 

“No one’s spoken to me. I’ve been alone…the food is good though.” 

“That would be Sudor,” Luke laughed, “he’s the steward here. I think he’d know that I’d be upset if you weren’t taken care of. I am so sorry it’s taken me so long to visit. It has been a crazy time. I can’t even begin to tell you. I can’t…I don’t know how to explain.” 

“Explain?” Biggs wondered. Luke looked fine, he looked healthy, and he was wearing brand new clothes made of expensive fabrics. “Luke…did you make a deal with Vader?” 

“NO!” He shook his head, and Biggs distantly noticed that his hair was bouncing as if he were wearing conditioner, something rebel pilots didn’t get very often. Now that he thought about, he had never seen Luke this clean. “Biggs…I do have something to tell you…but you won’t like it.” 

“Luke?” 

“I..maybe you should sit down.” Luke gestured at the bench, and Biggs fell back and pulled his commander down with him. Luke wavered and sighed deeply. “Biggs…I…when Princess Vader captured me…she threatened you and Wedge.” 

“Not surprising, coming from her.” 

“She wanted to know my name…and I told her my name. “

“Luke! You’re not supposed to!’ 

“She was going to kill you!” Luke exclaimed. “I couldn’t sit by! It was just my name. I didn’t think anything would come of it. I just thought that everything…would be fine.” 

“What did she do?” 

“You know what happened next…she brought me here.” Luke bowed his head, and Biggs wondered how bad it could be. His mind brought forth a million different scenarios, each one worst than the last. “I found out…I…Vader…he’s. Vader is my father.” 

“Oh,” Biggs leaned back but didn’t dislodge himself from his young friend. “I guess that explains the clothes.” 

“That’s,” flabbergasted, Luke gaped. “That’s all you’re going to say?” 

“I guess so,” he rubbed the back of his head. “You told us your name when you weren’t supposed to. You were a lot more powerful than any of your teachers…even the ones I wasn’t supposed to know about. I guess it just makes sense.”

“I’m sorry.” 

Biggs could only laugh at the absurdity. “Why are you apologizing?” 

“Habit, I suppose.” Luke shrugged, and Biggs hugged him tighter until the Jedi was flush against his chest. “I do miss you.” 

“I was worried that Princess Vader was going to rip out your mind and install some dark Jedi that would murder the rebellion in one day.” His joking tone didn’t alleviate his genuine fear. 

“They aren’t happy I’m a Jedi, but they haven’t tried to…make me a Sith. I think they’re starting with clothes.” 

“Make him wear black, and suddenly he’ll be evil?” 

“Something like that.” And as inappropriate as it was, Biggs couldn’t help admire just how much better these robes were. They fit Luke, flattered his slight figure and contrasted well with his skin. He liked the black and the new ornamentation around his waist. He couldn’t tell Luke how much better these looked. The outfit was doing all sorts of things to his imagination. “Oh, man.” He disentangled himself from Luke, blushing heavily. “Oh, the designer is genius…you look very…dark.” 

“I know,” Luke said glumly, and Biggs forcibly reminded himself to ignore his libido and focus on his friend. “Wedge likes them, though.” 

“How is Antilles?” 

“Fine,” Luke played with a tassel that hung at his waist. It was bright gold and reflected off the lights beautifully. “He’s trying to avoid Vader and Leia. They’re both insufferable.” 

“What do they want with you?” 

“I think they’re trying to play house,” Luke snorted bitterly. “Vader wants me to fit into a pre-poured mold. The idea of what he wants out of a son and assumes that I’m going to pick up the script perfectly.” 

“Ouch.” 

“I was right,” blond fringe shook under Biggs’ nose, and he smelled flowers. “At least he’s left me alone today.” 

“Tell me,” Biggs said firmly, “everything.” 

Not much later, the door slid violently open to reveal the Bane of the Rebellion looking as murderous as Biggs had ever seen her. 

“Luke!” Biggs yanked himself away from Luke, flushed with terror, and guilty of absolutely nothing but fantasizing. Lady Vader eyed him suspiciously but focused on her brother. “Your half an hour is up!” 

“Already!” Scandalized, Luke glanced around for a clock. It was a prison cell. There wasn’t one. 

“Yes, and Father wants to speak with you.” 

“Damn,” Biggs flushed guiltily as Luke hugged him again. “I’ll come back to visit you, I promise.” It was worse when Luke stood, and just at the threshold, turned his head around a winked. 

As the door slid shut, sealing Biggs in his cell, he remembered the Luke was very good at picking up on what other people were thinking. 

“Oh shit!” He buried his face in his hand, and then into the single pillow he’d been granted. “Oh, no!” 

#$#$# 

Luke was absolutely resplendent in his new robes. He was intimidating and dangerous, wearing the colors of the Sith and of royalty. There were no traces of his rebellious affiliation save for his glare his the insolent tilt of his head. Vader mentally applauded Ms. Rei as Luke swept in his office, already annoyed. 

“You summoned?” A poor imitation of a Core accent colored his usually flat tones, a single eyebrow rose. 

“Sit,” Vader pointed at the chair across from his desk. Luke obeyed with clear reluctance. “I trust your meeting with your pilot went well?” 

“It was fine, but he doesn’t have to be in a cell. Why can’t you bring him up, like Wedge?” 

“And have two uncouth rebel pilots in my home?”

“Three,” Luke retorted, “you’d have three.” 

“Regardless,” Vader chose to ignore his mistake. “I have been summoned back to Imperial Center. You and Leia will be returning with me.” 

“WHAT?” The chair fell back, knocked over as Luke jumped to his feet. 

“You will be returning as my son. Until I can trust you not to make an utter fool of yourself and invite assassination from some of the Emperor’s most staunch supporters you will not be introduced to Court.” 

“I can’t!” 

“The trip will take some time,” Vader decided to ignore Luke’s protests. “As I have several duties to attend before we reach the Core. A room in Leia’s suite is being converted for you. During this trip you are to restrain yourself from excessive violence or to antagonize your sister.” 

“I can’t go to the Core!” Luke exclaimed. “I’m a Jedi! You know what the Emperor does to Jedi!” 

“You are my son. This fact supersedes any rediculous affiliation you may have.” 

“Don’t I have a say in this? Or are you going to drag me around!”

“I will not lose you!” His temper rose before he could stop it, Vader slammed a fist onto his desk. Luke startled, and he tried again. “If you remained here, the emperor would attempt to send assassins after you.”

“But you’re allies?” 

“Or the rebellion will attempt to murder your for attempted defection.” 

“I would never!” 

“At my side, you are safest.”

“You are a Sith! I am a Jedi!” 

“And have you come to any harm here?” Vader gestured broadly, indicating the castle and everyone in it. 

“No! But not for a lack trying!” 

“Have you?” Vader asked again, and after a few minutes of reluctant silence, Luke shook his head. “Exactly.”

“But I’m still a rebel. Your officers will try to kill me!” 

“They would not dare.” Luke sensing that every argument he could come up with was going to be redirected or refuted slumped in his seat. It was hard to argue against a man who had probably planned for every contingency of this conversation. “Sudor will ensure that you are packed.” 

“What about Wedge and Biggs?” 

“They will remain here.”

“But they’re my friends!” 

“And they will receive training from Sudor until I am satisfied that they can be trusted near you without immediate sabotage or rebel foolishness.” 

“But they’re my friends!” 

“They are rebels.” 

“So am I! I’m not changing just because you’re an Imperial officer.” 

“I am not asking you to change,” Vader told him, with some difficulty. Luke’s surprise was palpable. “Only that you not make a fool of yourself.” 

“I…” Luke floundered a bit. “But.” 

“You are your mother’s child as much as mine. Perhaps you can draw inspiration from her.” 

“My mother?” Luke paused. “Who is my mother?” 

“WHAT?” Rage, hate, and no small amount of shock surged outward from Vader such that Luke ducked behind his chair and watched his father destroy the small decoration on his desk, his desk, and the holo-projector. Before he could deflect, Vader seized him with the Forcev and dragged him into the open. 

“Vader! Stop! Father!” Luke caught himself easily a moment later when the Sith released him, but tripped backward on splinters of the desk. 

“You do not know your mother!” 

“I didn’t!” He swallowed hard. “I never…asked?” Darth Vader loomed over him, hand on his hips. 

“You didn’t!” Flabbergasted Vader only gaped. “You DIDN’T ASK!” 

“It never came up!” He scrambled upright. “I didn’t have… I was…you were my father! Anakin Skywalker was my father! I! Who was she?” 

“Padme Amidala,” Vader thundered, heedless of the shock that knocked Luke back into silence. “Was your mother.” 

“The Senator?” 

“The Queen!” The fury smoldered beneath his voice. “How dare they hide this from you!” 

“They didn’t hide it from me! I never asked! Having one supernaturally brilliant parent was enough! You were both dead, so it wasn’t like it mattered!” 

“How dare you!” Luke stepped away, suddenly terrified as Vader advanced over the remains of his desk. “You spent your life in a driveling useless organization and.”

“Padme Amidala was the inspiration of the rebellion,” Luke shouted. “Everyone said so! She opposed Palpatine even before you were terrorizing the galaxy! She was a loyalist and a Republic Senator! If anything, spending my life as a rebel is exactly what she would have done. I grew up a Jedi! We aren’t supposed to have significant attachments!” 

“I,” the Sith exclaimed, “knew my mother until I was nine! You didn’t even know your mother's name!” 

“I,” before he could say something so colossally stupid that even being Vader’s son wouldn’t save, Luke clapped his hands over his mouth and tried to calm down. He turned away, breathing heavily and wondered where the hell the tears had come from. He shuddered when his father set a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t!” 

“Luke.” 

“I need to go,” he yanked himself. “I have to.” He fled, running from Vader’s office and back to his room where Leia was casually eating cookies on his bed. Momentarily arrested by the annoying realization he was going to be sleeping in crumbs, he nearly forgot why he was so upset. 

“What’s wrong?” She sat up, upending her magazine and the plate of cookies. 

“Did you!” He paced angrily around his room. “Did you know that….our mother!” 

“Padme Amidala?” 

“YOU KNEW!” He exploded, waving his arms. 

“YOU DIDN’T!”

“NO!” 

“Father must have been furious! That’s why” she tilted her head, “that’s why he’s currently destroying this?” 

“I guess! I didn’t know who my mother was! I didn’t…” he couldn’t finish that sentence. Leia would probably kill him. “It never came up!” 

“I suppose,” she broke a cookie in half, holding it out to him. He glowered at the smattering of crumbs decorating his blankets. “That you’re going to have to speak to him about it when he calms down. He told me stories of mother when I was just a baby. I spent my early summers on Naboo. Our grandparents are a little soft, but very nice.” 

“I don’t want!”

“Our cousin the current senator of Naboo,” his sister ignored his distress. “There are a few babies, and our aunt is perfectly acceptable.” 

“Where do all of these family members come from?” He demanded. “A month ago, I thought I was an orphan.” 

“Obviously the rebellions are doing,” she said cooly.   
“They’re crawling out of the woodwork!” Luke flopped onto his bed, mournfully chewing on his cookie. 

“We were already here,” Leia corrected him, nudging his shoulder with a booted foot. “You crawled out of the woodwork.” 

“Ugh,” he buried his face in his blanket and wondered if the Force was treating his life as a joke.

**Author's Note:**

> This is sort of based on chapter 15 of the kidnappings of a sith lord. A little reversed and clearly off track, but still.


End file.
